Handling Pointy Things
by Del Rion
Summary: It starts with a dream and ends with something that resembles strutting more than tiptoeing; in other words, Bruce has a new-found obsession with Tony, Tony finds that endearing and wants to take it further while everyone else – including Bruce – seems to think it might actually be a very bad idea. Part of the "Turquoise" –series.
1. Story Info

**Story Info**

**Title:** Handling Pointy Things

**Author:** Del Rion

**Fandom:** The Avengers & Iron Man (MCU)

**Era:** Post-Avengers movie, after "Blue Glow" fic.

**Genre:** Drama

**Rating:** M / FRM

**Characters:** Bruce Banner (Hulk), Clint Barton (Hawkeye), Jane Foster, Nick Fury, Happy Hogan, J.A.R.V.I.S., Darcy Lewis, Pepper Potts, James "Rhodey" Rhodes (War Machine), Steve Rogers (Captain America), Natasha Romanoff (Black Widow), Thor, Tony Stark (Iron Man)

**Pairings:** Bruce/Tony, Happy/Pepper, Jane/Thor (, Clint/Natasha, implied past Pepper/Tony)

**Summary:** It starts with a dream and ends with something that resembles strutting more than tiptoeing; in other words, Bruce has a new-found obsession with Tony, Tony finds that endearing and wants to take it further while everyone else – including Bruce – seems to think it might actually be a very bad idea.  
Work in progress. Part of the "Turquoise" –series.

**Warnings:** Slash (m/m relationship) and some sexual content, past and current het (f/m), superheroes vs. villains violence, language.

**Disclaimer:** Iron Man and Avengers, their characters and everything else belong to Marvel. The movie versions belong to Marvel Studios, Joss Whedon, Jon Favreau, Louis Leterrier, Kenneth Branagh, Joe Johnston, Paramount Pictures, Universal Pictures, Walt Disney Pictures… in short: everyone but me. This is pure fiction, created to entertain likeminded fans, no profit made.

**Beta:** Mythra

**Feedback:** Appreciated and cherished.

* * *

**About ****_Handling Pointy Things_****: **In "Blue Glow", Bruce had a dream that threw him a bit.

Before that, in "Smashed Heart" and "A Hulk-shaped Aegis", he created a closer relationship with Tony (bordering on over-protective).

Even before that, in "Sleeping It Off", Bruce felt drawn to the other man.

(Yes, all of the above is pimping for the previous parts in the series which you may or may not want to read before getting acquainted with this story.)

Between almost killing Tony, saving his life, trying to protect him and having some disturbingly nice dreams, Bruce can finally start admitting to himself that something's going on that he hadn't planned for when he joined the Avengers. This story aims to delve into that situation and what follows it for Bruce, Tony, the team and some assorted worried friends.

* * *

**Chapters and statuses: **Below you see the writing process of the story's chapters. If there is no text after the chapter's title, then it is finished and checked. Possible updates shall be marked after the title.

**Chapter 1: Breathing In**  
**Chapter 2: Dreamscape**  
**Chapter 3: Tiptoeing**  
**Chapter 4: Eye-catching**  
**Chapter 5: Strutting**  
**Chapter 6: Reality Check**  
**Chapter 7: Handling**  
**Chapter 8: Reality Check 1.2**  
**Chapter 9: Pointy Things**  
**Chapter 10: Reality Check 2.0**  
**Chapter 11: Conditioning**  
**Chapter 12: Reality Check 2.5**  
**Chapter 13: Breathing Out**  
**Chapter 14: Confirmation**  
**Chapter 15: Reaffirmation**  
**Chapter 16: Heart-stopping**  
**Chapter 17: Offbeat**  
**Chapter 18: Tapping**  
**Chapter 19: Dreamscape 2.0**  
**Chapter 20: Untapping**  
**Chapter 21: Breathing Easy**  
**Chapter 22: Super-dating**  
**Chapter 23: Meet Miss Lewis**  
**Chapter 24: Conferential** _(not written)_  
**Chapter 25: Imprints** _(not written)_  
**Chapter 26: Table Manners** _(not written)_  
**Chapter 27: Heart-to-heart** _(not written)_  
**Chapter 28: For Future Reference** _(not written)_


	2. Chapter 1: Breathing In

**Author's note:** Some heavy references to the earlier parts of the _Turquoise_–series included in this fic so I recommend reading them before tackling this story.

Now, finally, it's time for some Bruce/Tony. Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 1: Breathing In**

* * *

**Avengers Mansion**  
**Manhattan, New York, NY, USA**

"Breathe in for me," Bruce said. His voice was steady and quiet, calming even though his patient of the day wasn't afraid or in a panic over a rotting limb or something equally gruesome.

Tony took a deep, slow breath, his ribs moving, the arc reactor shifting. There were still a few faint scars but they had healed exceptionally well. All the swelling and bruises had vanished. Bruce focused on listening to his lungs then shifted the stethoscope to take a listen to his heart as well, out of habit. In the background there was the steady whirr of the arc, which he had to drown out; another thing he did out of habit by now.

The body on the examination table shifted after a moment, prompting Bruce to lift his eyes. Tony gave him a quick smile, waggling his eyebrows. "Is there anything else you would like to take a look at, Doctor?"

The flippant comment was nothing out of the ordinary; examinations made Tony nervous and uncomfortable, so he tried to break the tension by faking nonchalance. Throwing in a sexually-laced comment was a trademark move on his part. Until recently Bruce might have raised the stakes with a comment of his own or just told him to leave with a fond smile, but now he froze, his brain making a U-turn in a very different direction.

_The body on top of his, rocking, rising and falling in steady rhythm; his hand on top of the arc reactor, blocking its light, the blue glow illuminating his skin…_

"Doc?" Tony's voice snapped him out of it.

"We're done," Bruce hurried to say and cover for the momentary lapse of focus.

Tony, of course, didn't miss it. "Is everything okay?" he asked. "You've been acting a bit strangely for a while now."

"It's nothing," Bruce said, turning to put his instruments away. Well, the ones that Tony had gotten him since his old things never came back from India; hopefully someone else could find a use for them there in his absence…

He thought about Asia, about how much simpler his life there had been. Horrible and restricted, maybe, treating the never-ending line of the sick and dying, hiding from any and all government agents – no matter what country they represented – but at least there he didn't have to dread each night in his comfortable bed, pondering whether he would dream of another body joined with his and then try to look Tony in the eye and not let it show.

Bruce hadn't thought he would ever come to miss the nightmares related to the other guy.

"It's nothing," he muttered again, trying to convince himself.

"I'm sure it's something."

Bruce started; he hadn't thought Tony was still seated behind his back. The man usually wasted no time getting out once they were done. He turned to look at him, his friend still shirtless, the arc reactor bright even in the well-lit room, and he could only imagine what it would be like in the dark. Too bright, maybe. Not glowing softly in shades of blue as in his sensual dream.

A dream that wasn't real.

Couldn't become real.

_Would not_ become real because he knew better.

Tony shifted on the table and then slid down, barefoot, just wearing a pair of pants and potentially nothing beneath them. His shirt was thrown across a chair by the door where he had chucked it off. "Bruce," he said carefully, advancing on him. He usually called him by his surname which made this much more intimate. Bruce allowed his eyes to fall down the ribs he had traced in his sleep so many times, the hips he had grabbed and caressed.

Yes, it had been multiple dreams now. They kept coming back, almost every night and even when he took a nap which made him wary of doing it anywhere other people might see him, just in case it drew a real response from his body.

It usually did.

He hadn't jerked off this much since his teenage years.

"I'm all better," Tony said, mistaking his long looks as something else, "and I think we've established it wasn't your fault."

Bruce looked him in the eye again, finding it easier. In his dreams he didn't always see Tony's face although he knew it was there. It was other details his mind decided to focus on.

"We can keep this routine if it makes you feel better," Tony said and Bruce knew it was a big gesture from him since he had no affection for medical prodding and poking even when it was necessary. "But I also want you to start moving on," Tony went on. It was all kinds of wrong that Tony had to sound like the reasonable one; it was usually someone else having this discussion with him.

"Move on?" Bruce swallowed.

"Yes. You almost killed me – or the other guy did, that's just details. It was horrible, more for me than everyone else, but you can't keep living in that moment. We're getting better on the field," Tony went chattering on.

Yes, the Hulk, far as Bruce had heard, was actually letting Iron Man partake in the action again. If the situation got too hot, though, the other guy tended to intervene, and Bruce was secretly pleased. He wondered if even a lifetime of new memories would erase the vision of Iron Man's broken form lying at his feet. Knowing that Tony was encased in the broken metal, dying…

"Bruce," Tony said again, snapping his fingers impatiently.

"I'm working on it," Bruce promised.

"Good. Great. That's awesome," Tony smiled hurriedly then turned to fetch his shirt. Bruce's eyes followed, watching the lines and bumps of his spine; he never saw it while asleep, so he wanted to take it all in. The round curve of his ass, looking rather nice in those pants that rode low yet not too low.

"Are you checking me out?"

Bruce started; of course Tony had noticed, and of course he would be grinning. "Uhh…"

"Maybe it's a good thing you're not a real doctor, although it's still pretty kinky," Tony cracked then winked and left, his tone already changing as he started talking to J.A.R.V.I.S. in the hallway, going over some piece of coding that had been giving him trouble for a few days.

Bruce leaned against the table beside him and sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He felt like taking a nap – an old habit from when he was still on the run and had to find rest wherever he could – and wondered if he could get through it without having some new ideas in it, including Tony's backside.

The dreams bothered him for a few reasons. One of them was a worry about their origin, although he could admit he had been lonely for a long time and being around the same people was a big change. Tony was perhaps his closest friend on the team and he felt a kinship to him. Tony's past had included plenty of unabashed attention from and for other people, and although he had slowed down considerably after becoming Iron Man – and after getting together with Pepper – he had that playboy air about him and it wasn't a stretch to imagine him… well, in any way a person wanted to imagine him.

Another point of concern was the other guy. Bruce didn't know how dreams like these would affect him and for now there had been no incidents. Perhaps they wouldn't even trigger a transformation since there was no sense of danger and he had a better handle on the other guy. The only problem was the soiled sheets and clothes; he really had to get on with the tests to find out if only his blood was poisonous, or did the same apply for other bodily fluids like semen, sweat and spit? Well, he could rule the last two out as very unlikely to have an unhealthy dose of radiation but there was no room for error in that area.

Not that he planned on making a move on Tony and putting that data to good use or anything. It was bad enough J.A.R.V.I.S. had caught him having the dreams and was aware of them, but far as he knew, Tony was still oblivious – and there was no way either the AI or its creator could know whom it was his dreams focused on.

Dreams were relatively harmless. Actual interaction with a person, however, could trigger a transformation, not to mention other dangers, and he had never even felt attracted to men.

He closed his eyes, picturing Tony putting on his shirt. He had seen more of him naked than that but he was healthy and alive now, not lying unconscious in a bed, so it was different and this was the way he wanted to remember him. And perhaps he had never been attracted to men but his dreams were convincing him that he might just feel something for Tony Stark.

Opening his eyes he set out to clean up the medical room and left to make himself some tea. Perhaps it would calm him down so that he could have a perfectly normal nap with no dreams concerning dark rooms and glowing arc reactors.

_to be continued…_


	3. Chapter 2: Dreamscape

**Chapter 2: Dreamscape**

* * *

**Stark Tower**  
**Manhattan, New York, NY, USA**

_The light burns his eyes. Something he can't rub away. He blinks and strikes out at where the light's coming from, hot and sudden. It's already gone, the light's not directed at him anymore, hovering in the air. An annoying fly. He strikes it, holds it, smashes it down._

_He hits the bright light as hard as he can._

_The world goes dark, and then there's a hospital bed. His eyes burn again, but this time they feel dry after too much crying. The light in Tony's chest is gone, an empty black hole remaining and he's too still –_

Bruce jerked violently, sweat coating his skin under the covers. His heart hammered painfully in his chest and he lunged towards the bedside lamp. He hit it with his hand, trying to find the button – anything to stop the darkness around him and bring him the rest of the way out of the dream – but he struck down the lamp and it rolled to the floor with a crash.

_"Sir?"_ J.A.R.V.I.S.'s familiar voice interrupted his frantic grappling on the edge of the bed.

"Lights," Bruce managed.

The room slowly lit up, no doubt to allow his eyes to adjust instead of going into full brightness at once.

He sighed, lying back, kicking the sheets the rest of the way off his body.

_"Do you require something else, Dr. Banner?"_

Bruce wondered about that. Usually when he had a nightmare – flashes of what the Hulk saw mingling with his own memories – he had no luxury, not even a fire to light, but this was different. "Where's Tony?" he asked, voice still rough. The image of the hospital bed sat seared into his brain; the sensation of too much crying all too familiar and recent. He had expected the dreams would have stopped coming now that Tony was better.

_"Mr. Stark is asleep in his room. Should I wake him up?"_

"No, thank you," Bruce said hurriedly.

J.A.R.V.I.S. waited silently.

Bruce peeled himself off the mattress, not feeling sorry for getting up. His skin was overheated and yet he shivered from the sweat, smelling it – a smell of fear, of despair; two potent emotions that could trigger a transformation because that was an easy way to deal, but right now he didn't want to risk it and pushed the other guy deeper and further. He knew it wouldn't be enough, though. He wasn't calming down fast enough, the images still rolling around in his head. It was perhaps the clearest vision he'd had of the Hulk's experience with Iron Man – before he smashed his chest in; almost killed Tony who was recovering from a break-up with Pepper and was trying to get himself hurt, although he perhaps wasn't thinking of it consciously at the time. A little extra pain to cover the agony inside him…

Bruce was all too familiar with that, of getting low, of seeing no way out but the final way. Tony, however, was not the type to hold a gun to his mouth just to ride the adrenaline rush a bit further from the pain. There was no monster in him to spit the bullets back out.

He left his room, wandering the quiet halls of the Stark Tower where he and Tony had come to play in the R&D labs. They had plenty of space like that at the Avengers Mansion but the Tower was fully equipped for their current experiment and the two places weren't that far from each other should something happen that required the Avengers to assemble.

Dim lights lined the hallways, the graceful shape of a waterfall on one living room wall giving it an unreal feeling. Bruce passed all that, not at all soothed by the beautiful harmony that usually caught his attention at least for a little bit and lured him into doing some yoga. Instead he chose another set of steps and followed them to a room he had acquainted himself with on the very first night they stayed in the Tower after the Chitauri attack; Tony's bedroom.

He opened the door carefully, searching the darkness. The comforting light of the arc reactor shone dimly through the covers and he had an itch to step in and tug them down further to see it completely; to bask in its light, maybe discern the faint sound as it worked to keep Tony alive, to keep his heart beating and shrapnel-free…

Tony twitched, shifted, turned and opened his eyes. He lifted his head slightly, squinting, then sat up. "Banner?"

Bruce didn't know what to say. Sorry for waking him up? He hadn't even made a sound.

"Bad dream?" Tony tried, yawning, shaking the rest of the sleep from his face. The cover fell away and the room was washed with light blue.

Another dream invaded his mind and for now it was a blessing although it felt more distant than usual. The nightmare still persisted – a memory of something horrible which he hoped he could one day forget. "Yeah," he finally breathed. "I just… had to see that you're okay, although rationally I knew you would be."

"Well, it was horrible, I hear," Tony replied, guessing which incident his dreams had focused on. "Do you want to sit down for a bit?"

"It's okay," Bruce started.

"I get lonely, too, you know?" Tony mused, looking at his lap, then at the empty spot on the bed. Well, he was hogging most of the bed but maybe he did that to avoid the feeling that Pepper should still be there.

Bruce figured he could sit here a moment, push the dream the rest of the way to the back of his mind. He stepped in, closed the door – even though it was just the two of them here – and wandered over to the bed.

Tony scooted over a bit and Bruce sat down. The mattress was warm where Tony's weight had previously been. He could smell his aftershave, a bit of cologne and what he had learned was simply Tony beneath all the oil, grease, fine linens and the smell of metal. Tony had once said something about coconuts…

"Wanna talk about it?" Tony asked.

Bruce stared at his chest, looking deep into the arc reactor, stripping layers with his eyes, knowing what lay inside; complicated and yet so very simple.

"Bruce?"

He looked up, snapping out of it. "It was a fraction of what the other guy saw and felt. They come floating back sometimes. That's something I haven't grown used to." Mostly because there was no preparing himself against some of the horrors, the animal rage and reactions. Things a human mind didn't need to cope with on daily basis.

"I used to wear a shirt to bed," Tony started suddenly and Bruce realized his eyes had fallen to the arc again. "But I would wake up in the middle of the night, afraid, and tear it off. I used to wear one for Pepper although she didn't think it was such a big thing, but you don't want a night light shining in your face all night," he mused wryly. "I guess she, too, felt it was a sign that I was still alive."

Bruce nodded. "It's… yeah, it does that. If you'd seen what happens without it. If it's broken…"

Tony gave him a rueful smile. "I'm glad I wasn't awake for that."

"Me, too." Bruce could somehow deal with the parts his human brain recalled perfectly, but the flashes from the other guy were unbearable. It wasn't as if the other guy had wanted to hurt Tony, but the Hulk had just forgotten in the sudden stab of pain with whom he was dealing.

An error Bruce wasn't going to let happen again, and so far it seemed the other guy agreed.

Tony glanced at the clock on the side. "It's still early. We should sleep."

Bruce nodded reluctantly, feeling stupid for barging into Tony's room in the middle of the night like this.

"You should stay," Tony added suddenly. "It's a big bed and we've kind of shared it before."

Bruce flushed, just a little. Only then did he notice that he was still wearing only a shirt and boxer shorts, his skin smelling of sweat and his hair all rumpled from the dream. He must look like a mess. "You remember that?" he muttered after a bit, looking away.

"Yeah," Tony shrugged. "Look, it's not… Like I said, I get lonely, too – we all know why, no reason to elaborate on it beyond that or I'll spend the rest of the night, day or week in front of the liquor cabinet. Maybe the dream won't come back to haunt you if you're, you know, close," he said, tapping the arc lightly. "I know you won't try to steal it."

What on earth made him say that? It jarred Bruce's brain; had someone tried to steal it? Was that why Tony had such a low-key love life with strangers these days, not just because of the sudden lack of Pepper's presence? "I won't try to take it," he affirmed.

Tony gave him a smile then moved around, his back to him and lay down. Bruce sat there stupidly, then slid down, too, a safe distance from Tony. Even as the lights dimmed – J.A.R.V.I.S. must have slowly switched them on as they talked – he could make out Tony's side, the curve of his spine, the dip of his hip above the dark boxer briefs he wore. The blue glow was softer when he was turned away from him but he could tell it was still there.

"Are you holding your breath?" Tony asked with laughter in his voice.

Bruce inhaled sharply.

"I won't bite," Tony said in a lower tone. "Unless you want me to."

"I would advise against that. Poisonous blood and all that," he attempted to joke to lighten the mood. He itched to run his hand up from Tony's hip to his shoulder but knew better than to give into that particular desire.

"You just can't take a joke," Tony noted. Bruce bet he was rolling his eyes even if it was behind closed lids.

"I just made one."

Tony shifted and turned around. The arc reactor glowed between them. Maybe his eyes were adjusting because it didn't seem so bright anymore. Tony looked at him for the longest time which had to be some kind of record for him not talking while he was in the room with another person or an AI.

"Someone tried to take your arc reactor from you," Bruce finally stated. "Stole it."

Tony's face flinched, eyes snapping away from his face. One of his hands twitched as if to move over his chest to protect the device. "A man who worked to build the company with my father. He was the one who ordered the hit on me in Afghanistan, but was happy to get a suit prototype instead. He took my arc reactor to power his own design."

"Took it?"

"Took it from my chest, leaving me to… you know, die," Tony shrugged like it didn't matter but he looked troubled. This time his hand moved to cover the rim of the arc.

Bruce felt a sudden stab of wrath, of anger so deep even the other guy didn't do more than growl in unison. Someone whom Tony had obviously trusted had turned on him and taken the thing that kept him alive. Had tried to kill him. Yes, he had heard of the capture of Tony Stark and the greatest phoenix metaphor walking Earth to this day, but they had never talked about it before; first there had been the business with Loki, the Cube and the Chitauri, and later they worked on being a team, getting settled in their new life.

He shifted his hand, covering Tony's with his own on his chest. "I will never take it from you, and as long as I'm here… they'll have to get through me – and the other guy – to take it again."

Tony's eyes were wide and dark and he blinked rapidly for a few seconds. "Thanks," he finally managed. "I'm sure I have it covered, though…" he tried to weasel out of the moment.

"Well, if the day ever comes when you're off your guard," Bruce mused, shifting a bit closer, wanting to be a protective wall of flesh between anyone who would try to hurt Tony. They were friends, after all, and if Bruce could do something to make Tony feel safer, he would.

Tony smiled briefly then closed his eyes. His hand slid off the arc but then moved up, pressing Bruce's hand more firmly against it.

Bruce fell asleep with a blue glow on his face and the slight whirr of the arc reactor beneath his palm, Tony's skin warm and alive against his.

* * *

_Their hips press together. The drag of hot, wet, and tight against his cock creates a pressure low in his stomach._

_He wants it to go on._

_He wants it to end._

_He'll want it again when it's over._

_The blue glow moves above him, the dark room even darker around it. Nothing else matters._

_"Bruce," he whispers. It sounds different although it's not – that's the way everyone says his name but it means so much more._

_Heat pools in his groin._

_Tony's hips press against him, rolling, seeking –_

He was chasing down his orgasm when the dream ended. He could tell it was gone, the sensation suddenly dulled and gone, but there was still heat left; there was still friction. He could cling to the memory of the dream, ride the wave and come. It would feel so good, almost as good as in the dream.

"Morning."

Bruce jerked awake – which had the unwanted effect of pressing against the solid warmth in front of him.

"Look, I'm not going to be traumatized or anything, but –"

Bruce moved as fast as he could. Somehow in the middle of the night they had moved and rolled so that Bruce ended up spooning behind Tony and his cock was currently pressed very close to his backside.

Tony rolled onto his back as Bruce tried to escape the cocoon of the sheets he didn't remember drawing on top of them.

"It's okay. Bruce," Tony said, a grin on his face. "Morning wood is not rocket science. Not even science fair science."

Bruce panted, tugging off the sheet, then realized that when he did, Tony would actually be able to see how hard he was and it felt like the entire front of his boxer shorts was wet with anticipation. So he froze there, clutching the sheets, trying to will his rigid flesh to go flaccid again.

Tony sat up, staying a safe distance from him, not wanting to crowd. "I would take it as a compliment but you were having such a nice dream – I don't know it if was me after all," he mused as if they were talking about the day's project and not Bruce humping his back.

Dream.

Tony.

Not the train of thought he needed in order to get rid of his erection.

"What's with you these days?" Tony asked then. "Even J.A.R.V.I.S. is worried although I convinced him that dreams like that are not, in fact, something to be alarmed about although he said you treated them like reoccurring nightmares. What's with that, by the way?"

Bruce froze, looking at the other man. "J.A.R.V.I.S. told you?" Yeah, so the AI had found out and Bruce had attempted to blame it on a nightmare yet apparently the smart artificial intelligence had figured out it wasn't that at all.

"I created him," Tony said, a little offended. "He tried to be very discrete about it but when you make such a big deal out of it –"

"I don't!" Bruce argued. "It's not a… problem."

"Good, because it isn't; it's completely natural. But if you want my advice, you should take care of the problem at hand because your brain is trying to tell you you need to get laid. Seriously. So your own hand is your best friend right now instead of having a death grip on it. That usually doesn't work unless you're into that sort of thing, and considering how long this has been going on, you're not."

Bruce had a hard time following, trying to think of something other than Tony and Tony's voice and Tony talking about his hard-on. His mind kept getting dragged back into the dream he had just had, and the first time Tony ever spoke in it.

"Bruce."

_God._

He looked at the other man helplessly. The way he said his name, even awake… Well, it was the same, only it wasn't a whisper roughened by sex. "What?"

"Is there something you want to talk about?" Tony asked a bit more seriously. "Because I get the feeling this has something to do with me and the way you kept ogling my ass the other day at the doctor's office –"

Bruce bolted upright before he could finish. Tony had noticed. How could he think Tony wouldn't have noticed? The man ate sexual innuendos for breakfast, it wasn't as if Bruce's rather open admiration of his body was going to go unnoticed.

"Hey, I didn't mean it like that. Come on!" Tony started after him, scrambling to the edge of the bed to follow, then reached out to grab Bruce's arm. Bruce wanted to break the contact, striding to the door, but Tony didn't let go and there was a slight crash as Tony fell off the edge of the bed, still hanging onto him.

Bruce stopped and turned.

"Ouch," Tony commented from the floor.

"Are you okay?" Escape and erection forgotten, Bruce crouched down just as Tony shifted to sit up, rubbing his shoulder with his free hand; the other was still firmly wrapped around Bruce's forearm. The sheets were mostly on the floor beneath them as Bruce knelt and they looked at each other.

"This is stupid," Tony said.

"Stop clinging to me."

"It's not clinging but… trying to stop you from leaving before you talk to me."

"I can't."

"You can't talk?"

"I can't talk about it with you."

Tony frowned. "Robert Bruce Banner," he said slowly. "I need you to talk to me about this because… I know this problem is with me. For weeks you've been acting weird – but only with me. It's never been strange between us, and at first I thought maybe you were thinking of leaving and I tried to think of a way to make you stay, but then J.A.R.V.I.S. told me about the dreams and I noticed how your eyes just sort of lingered every time we saw each other."

Bruce looked away, flushing. "I tried not to…"

"Look, my ass can tell when it's being watched," Tony said, humor back in his voice for the time being. "It has its own radar, refined by years of practice. I don't care, it's nothing new, but it's you and suddenly it's a problem. So, tell me… I'm just going to ask you because it's easier if it's out there: are you having sexual dreams about me?"

The color didn't drain from Bruce's face. He just stared at Tony's face, the dark eyes that weren't as wide as last night but waiting for his reply with quiet reserve. He could lie but they both probably knew the real answer. "Yes," he finally confessed.

"Okay," Tony said, letting out some of the air he had clearly been holding. "Great. You and half of the globe's population; it's nothing new because I'm awesome like that," he cracked a smile.

"Half?" Bruce shot back because it was easier to take the sarcastic road.

Tony shrugged. "An argument could be made for a little less, but let's face it, I'm the public face of this team so I get the girls the rest of you are pussyfooting around."

Bruce dared a laugh. True, Tony was out there with his own name and was more real than the rest of them who stayed behind masks and codenames. "I always thought masked vigilantes were the symbols to get people's dreams going, not the unmasked ones."

"Pfft, overrated. Besides, it works for you, doesn't it?" he winked again, then allowed himself to get serious again.

Bruce shifted uncomfortably. Now that it was out there, he wasn't sure if it would get easier or worse.

"It's just dreams," Tony said after a bit. "It's harmless. You can apologize for this morning if it makes you feel better, but at the end of the day you know it's not real. No harm done."

"That's the problem," Bruce said dryly. "The dream and reality are getting mixed up and I can't really tell them apart anymore. It's turning into an obsession and I can't seem to turn it off. Every day I have to face you and remind myself of which version of you I'm looking at." He looked at Tony to make a point and although he knew he wasn't sleeping right now, the unclothed state of the other man made it hard to not let the dream seep through to his thoughts.

"So I guess then there's no harm in it if I kiss you?" Tony mused, leaning forward, his hand leaving Bruce's arm and moving towards his neck to pull him forward.

Bruce leaned back fast, stopping Tony. "I can't."

"You can't?" Tony blinked. "It will be better than a dream, I promise you that."

"I can't," Bruce repeated.

Tony sat back, almost pouting as he thought. "Why?" he asked then.

"The other guy. It's not a dream. It's you and me." It was like a list in his head, only mixed up and tangled in what ifs and wistful thinking.

"It's just a kiss. I don't think the big guy is going to make an appearance just from that," Tony arched an eyebrow. "Plus, we're friends, and we both know it's not a dream."

"And what happens after a kiss?" Bruce asked.

Tony grinned, then cleared his throat and forced the smile to recede. "What do you want to happen?"

Bruce should have known Tony wouldn't shove him out of his room and call him a creep. For all he knew, Tony had done this before – only not with Bruce, and that made a huge difference to any other man who had ever been in his bed. And even if there had been men, what did Tony do with them? Bruce had a very clear idea of what _he_ wanted to do.

"Just a kiss," Tony tried again. "Then you can go to the bathroom and take care of your hard-on, after which we can go and have breakfast and talk this through."

"You always talk things through with your night guests?" Bruce asked.

"None of them are you. I never wanted to keep them around. You, however, are going to be around and…" He fell silent, as if just realizing all the implications of this. Bruce opened his mouth to agree but Tony shook his head. "No. A kiss won't be a problem so don't try to weasel out of it."

"I'm not, because we're not going to kiss and I really should go."

But maybe he wanted the kiss because when Tony leaned over and framed his face with his hands, he didn't back away or panic. He was perfectly calm and savored the pressure of another person's lips against his own. Tony didn't go deeper which probably showed a lot of restraint on his part, and he even pulled back after a few long seconds. "How was that?" he asked then, voice low. "Better than the dream?"

"We never kissed in any of the dreams," Bruce replied.

Tony blinked at him slowly then smiled. "I tell you, it would be better."

"I'll have to take your word for it."

His body was surprisingly calm in the aftermath, even the hardness between his legs. He didn't tell Tony in case the man would take offense.

"Breakfast in half an hour," Tony told him when Bruce left the bedroom.

The shower he took was long and cool. He managed not to finish off his morning wood, leaving himself a bit tense but it couldn't be helped. He remembered Tony's lips, though, and the way he looked right after, savoring it, too.

Something more to add to his dreams…

* * *

"J?"

_"Yes, sir?"_

"What did you make of that?"

Tony was lying back on the bed, the pillow smelling a little of them both. He still had twenty minutes to get himself up and into the kitchen if he judged Bruce's need to shower correctly.

_"It seems complicated. Dr. Banner's vitals suggest a great amount of nervousness and apprehension towards the situation."_

"How about before he woke up?"

_"When he was dreaming?"_

"Mmm…"

_"He seemed fairly relaxed. Just like the moment you kissed him, sir."_

Tony opened his eyes. "Well… that's something." He had noticed it but wasn't sure. Perhaps Bruce had just gone kind of limp in order to not stir the other guy. Or maybe he had actually liked it.

_"Shall I start the coffee?"_

"Yeah," Tony replied and rolled off the bed, throwing the fallen sheets back on it and moving towards the shower.

_"Are you planning on following this through?"_ J.A.R.V.I.S. asked while he was under the spray.

"Is there a reason why you're interested?"

_"He is the first person who has been in your bed since Miss Potts left."_

Tony froze. "He just needed some company after a nightmare."

_"Yes, I am certain that was it, sir."_

"Don't get cocky on me."

_"I wouldn't dream of it."_

Tony leaned against the tiles and looked at the small droplets of water raining down from above. Some of them flew at his eyes but he blinked them away absently. There was only so much time for him to decide what to do about this before he would join Bruce for breakfast. Sure, he could just let it be – which was probably something the other man expected to happen – but Tony didn't leave things half-way.

_"If I may make an observation?"_ J.A.R.V.I.S. spoke up again.

"Shoot."

_"You haven't slept for so many continuous hours since Miss Potts' absence as you did last night, not counting the time you spent in the hospital healing from your injuries."_

"Gotta get my beauty sleep some time," Tony noted.

_"Dr. Banner seems to have a good effect on you, at and outside work."_

"Your point being, Romeo?"

_"You should pursue this, sir."_

Tony wondered if J.A.R.V.I.S. had been taking lessons from too many romantic reality TV shows.

_"My main objective is your wellbeing, sir,"_ the AI went on.

"One good night of sleep doesn't guarantee a relationship," he only half-joked.

_"Certainly not, but seeing as your usual style of losing sleep with your romantic companions hasn't proven itself functional, perhaps this approach will work better."_

That was certainly something to think about while eating breakfast.

_to be continued…_


	4. Chapter 3: Tiptoeing

**Chapter 3: Tiptoeing**

* * *

**Stark Tower**  
**Manhattan, New York, NY, USA**

"J.A.R.V.I.S. thinks we should hook up."

Bruce almost spat his orange juice all over the table. Well, it may have been the better option because trying to hold it in made him almost choke, and having fresh orange juice up your nose wasn't on the top of the list of things he enjoyed. Not even close.

Tony moved over to smack him on the back with his hand as he tried to cough out the rest of the juice, covering his face with a paper towel once he was done.

"You gonna come out of there sometime today and give me your reply?" Tony asked after a while when Bruce resolutely stayed behind said paper towel.

"My reply?" Bruce muttered in a half-question, lowering the towel slightly, doing one more thorough clean-up of his face just in case he had missed a spot earlier.

"To my helpful AI's suggestion; I think he wants to start a dateline," Tony mused, leaning back in his chair, close to tipping it over and crashing to the floor.

"He thinks we should… Can J.A.R.V.I.S. really understand the concept of a relationship and all it entails?" Bruce asked with a deep frown.

The AI stayed suspiciously quiet even at the continued mention of its name.

"I'm sure he could calculate the outcome with several variables and be pretty accurate," Tony mused. "I didn't create him for that but he's learning on his own and has been watching me fail at relationships for years."

"I always thought Pepper was the only one."

Tony leaned forward again with a slight thump, looking at the table. "She was the only one who meant something because she was my friend. There were a few… people… who stuck around longer than others, when I was younger. Mainly when I didn't have a company to run or didn't care for it much. Afterwards there was no reason to settle for one, if you know what I mean? And no one was good enough."

"So you have standards," Bruce joked; a popular opinion seemed to be that Tony Stark's standards were low at best, but maybe all those articles has been written by people he had turned down, who knew. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned…

Tony looked at him searchingly. "Before, not so much. They just had to look good or promise me a good enough time to compensate for the lack of the former. More often than not I was disappointed. After Afghanistan… it was all for show. I stopped sleeping with people. Pepper was the first in a long time, and now she's gone, so…"

"I'm sorry," Bruce said honestly.

"It's not like I couldn't get a date. I'm Iron Man," Tony mused, scratching at some stain on the tabletop.

Bruce nodded encouragingly. "It takes time. When you love someone –"

"I don't want to talk about Pepper," Tony interrupted him rather sharply, looking at him again. Clearly the subject hurt and Tony dove in the opposite direction to avoid it: "We were talking about us."

"There is no 'us'," Bruce argued.

"In your head there is."

"But that's in my head. Don't make it into more than it is. It's just… pent up frustration and a fantasy."

"A fantasy that can be made very real," Tony said with barely contained enthusiasm.

Bruce wondered if Tony pursued this only to fill the void; the other guy had almost killed him, so maybe it was only fitting in Tony's head Bruce should help him with the rest of his issues.

Well, Bruce had his own problems and he had to put them first. "I thank you for that but it's never going to happen."

"Didn't we already talk about this earlier this morning?" Tony frowned.

"You don't listen very well."

"I know what you want."

"And what is that?"

"Me."

"In my head!" Tony jerked back; Bruce hadn't meant to yell. He took a steadying breath and tried again, quieter: "Yes, I've dreamt of you – us – but it doesn't make it real. And even if I wanted to, I can't risk it. I could seriously hurt you."

Tony debated that for a moment. "You liked the kiss," he said then.

"I did." Bruce could admit that much with a fond smile. He would remember that for a long time. Such a simple thing, but it meant a lot to him because it was Tony.

"We could do more of that," Tony suggested. "We could take it slow. I know we both miss human contact and we get along fine. Your brain is the most amazing, sexiest thing I've come across in all my life. That it has decided to fixate on me doesn't make it any kind of turn-off."

Yeah, there was that… "And what happens when kissing isn't enough?" Bruce asked. "I don't think it will take long for you to get bored with something so… childish as kissing and holding hands."

"We would be holding hands?" Tony looked at him teasingly, then grew serious. "I don't know. We'll work on it. I'm sure deep down you want more than a kiss, and there has to be a way to control the other guy during sex. You've got a better handle on him than you had in the beginning, right?"

The words left an empty feeling inside Bruce; he remembered the last time he had kissed a person he cared about, held her at night, too afraid of hurting her to enjoy the last moments they had together before he ran…

"Maybe I can't control it," he finally said.

"Then we would work around that," Tony said adamantly. "It's all about figuring out a pattern; finding the triggers, getting used to a new element."

"It's not science," Bruce said, dejected.

"No; it's human relations, and that doesn't exactly have rules we can follow or attempt to modify." Tony slid closer with his chair, leaning into his space but not touching him yet. "Tell me honestly you're not interested in giving it a shot. That you would rather spend your nights dreaming of something you could actually have, waking up with that empty feeling that you're alone and pretending that it's what you want."

"I don't always get what I want," Bruce said in a hollow voice.

"You could get it now."

Bruce looked at Tony; the brown eyes were guarded even now but more honest than with most people he had seen him with; his tan skin smooth under the lamps, his hair still slightly damp from the shower he must have taken after Bruce left his room; the wife-beater and pants, so simple and looking like comfort clothes instead of the type he wore to meetings; the desperate honesty on his face, speaking of the mutual need they both shared to _not be alone_.

"I guess I could deal with kissing," Bruce finally admitted. "And hand-holding. And a degree of touching. But you'll have to respect my boundaries, Tony," he added. "If it's too much –"

"I'll back off, no questions asked," Tony nodded. "I have no desire for a re-match with the big guy in case he still feels resentment about that sparring incident."

The Hulk didn't, but Bruce had no reason to tell Tony that; maybe it would keep him from pulling such insane stunts with him in the future. Instead he nodded then leaned forward, touching Tony's face with one hand and kissing him. It was deeper this time, a little bit of open lips, breathing the same air, and they kept at it for more than just a few seconds.

It was sad and pathetic, as if they were back in middle-school, but it left them both with slightly bashful smiles afterwards and the air was significantly lighter in the room.

* * *

They had decided to spend a few more days at the Tower. No one asked them what they were up to in there; they assumed some kind of science – and there was some of that, too – but they also spent time together in front of the TV, watching documentaries or stupid soap operas… just hanging out. They ordered out, tried new foods, played games neither of them was good at and Tony tried to cheat anyway if it looked like he was losing. Bruce always responded by trying to win a little harder and making it difficult to win by foul play.

In the middle of saving the world and then almost killing Tony, there had never been real time for them to bond although they had instinctively felt each other out since the beginning. There was only a little trial and error between them because they just instinctively knew what worked.

If not, J.A.R.V.I.S. was quick to supply them with corrections and ideas of his own.

That was, Tony could admit, a little creepy.

It was a few days after the kitchen talk when they were on the couch, watching some program about couples playing against each other, trying to correctly guess facts about their own partners' ideas.

Tony and Bruce took to answering the answers along with the contestants to pass time. It was clear Bruce knew a lot about Tony even when it didn't have to do with his career. "I thought you were hiding from the world," Tony complained.

"I wasn't always in hiding, and you were a pretty public figure," Bruce defended his success.

_"What would be the color to represent you as a couple?"_ the host asked.

Tony frowned. "Well, you're green and I'm gold and red so that makes some ugly brown color with a little hint of bling."

"Turquoise," was Bruce's answer.

Tony looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

Bruce shrugged. "Green," he pointed at himself, "and pale blue," he moved to gently tap the arc reactor through Tony's shirt. "Which makes turquoise."

Tony smiled. "I like your answer better. Also, I want popcorn." He got up and wandered off to the kitchen, popping a bag into the microwave. As he waited for it to pop he hummed idly and went to pour them both tall glasses of juice; Bruce didn't want to drink and Tony didn't feel like getting wasted around him.

_"Sir,"_ J.A.R.V.I.S. piped up. _"The evening is proceeding very nicely."_

"Don't tell me there's a swarm of villains that needs to be taken care of," Tony complained in advance.

_"It seems to be a quiet night; no such alarms have come to my attention."_

"Then what's up?"

_"Nothing. I merely wanted to let you know the evening is going well."_

"Huh," Tony mused then took the popcorn out of the microwave when it was ready. He had never known J.A.R.V.I.S. to take such concern in his affairs before. Maybe he'd have to take a look at his coding sometime soon to make sure nothing was amiss.

Bruce glanced up as he approached, smelling the treat.

"Has J.A.R.V.I.S. talked to you lately?" Tony asked.

Bruce pursed his lips. "Earlier today, why?"

"Anything funny?"

"Not funny. Just… caring. He's amazingly life-like," Bruce smiled. He had always liked the AI, appreciating the genius put into creating it.

"What did he say?" Tony asked.

"That he's glad we've taken to each other. I think he's been worried ever since Pepper left. He implied your brush with death was nothing if not expected after such a breakdown."

Tony thought about that while munching a mouthful of popcorn. "Well, it's only fair you're taking care of me now," he mused then.

Bruce gave him one of those gentle, patient smiles. "Yeah, that's all there is to it."

* * *

The only word Bruce could give it was 'tiptoeing'; they hung out, they touched, they kissed. They napped together, but most nights they wouldn't go into the same bedroom. It took Bruce a few days to tell himself that he could, in fact, join Tony in his bed and it wouldn't be weird because they were sort of together and that's why they should do it.

Tony, as he had suspected, didn't find a fault in that logic when Bruce showed up at his door again. He simply scooted over on the mattress, allowing Bruce to throw down the pillow he had brought with him from his own bed. They opted to use only Tony's covers and Bruce folded his to wait in a vacant chair in case they were needed.

When they lay down, ready for sleep, it was strange.

"It isn't this weird cuddling on a couch," Tony commented. "I've never had this much trouble relaxing in bed with anyone." He didn't suggest they should have sex, though. He had been amazing at holding back those comments, Bruce had noticed.

"Maybe we're over-thinking this," Bruce suggested.

"Feel free to stop thinking."

Bruce chuckled knowing that for the two of them 'not thinking' was asking a lot, then scooted closer, pressing his face in the back of Tony's neck. The other man sighed at the touch. They lay still for a moment, then Bruce lifted one arm and threw it over Tony's side. They were used to this much closeness on the couch and although it would get warm during the night, they could start like this. After all, they were still at the learning phase…

* * *

His bed partner was kind of hogging the pillow, Tony noticed as he began to stir. They were lying really close to each other, the sheet kicked off to not suffocate them – although J.A.R.V.I.S. would be cooling down the room temperature to a pleasant one so it didn't really matter.

A leg brushed his, meatier and hairier. There was none of Pepper's perfume in the air either, or a draft from the shampoo she liked.

Tony opened his eyes and was acutely aware it wasn't Pepper. He wondered how long it would take before he stopped expecting it to be her. They hadn't been together for that long, but it had obviously meant more to him than anyone else.

For one, he had slept entire nights beside her which could not be said about most of his other partners.

Except for Bruce. It would be rude to run out on Bruce, no matter how attractive an idea he got that he should work on in the workshop.

Bruce sighed and shifted in his sleep, then he groaned and started pulling his arm from beneath the pillow where Tony had been sleeping on top of it. Either the limb was asleep or achy; Tony could sympathize with both. Bruce blinked, curly hair all over the place. It was a bit weird to wake up like this, probably for both of them, but they had spent enough time snuggling on the couch that it wasn't downright awkward.

"Morning," Bruce finally mumbled and lay back down, rolling onto his back and getting his bearings. He stretched the arm that had been twisted under the pillow, getting blood flowing.

"You slept well?" Tony asked, unsure if they could just start talking science this early to avoid any other topics.

Bruce nodded, looking at him. "Why is this still weird?" he mused out loud.

Tony shook his head, no smarter. Well, it was a good sign Bruce didn't use the strangeness as an excuse to put an end to it, which was something Tony had half-expected him to do. Thank goodness for small miracles.

"Perhaps we should work on it a bit harder," he suggested.

"You have ideas on how to do that?"

"A few." So he leaned over, brushing noses with Bruce before angling his head for a kiss. He swore he could still taste Bruce's toothpaste, which had a funny flavor of some organic shit. Well, so much of Bruce smelled and tasted organic that Tony didn't even mind, and Pepper kept telling him organic was good, so… Yeah, maybe he was starting to like it.

"I like this idea," Bruce noted after a bit and one of his hands slid down Tony's bare side. His skin was sensitive and warm after sleep, Bruce's fingertips roughened by work like Tony's own, nails blunt. They edged all the way down to the waistband of his underwear before stopping.

"By all means do go on," Tony murmured and kissed him again, with a bit more passion.

Bruce held onto his lower lip for a moment when they broke apart. "I don't want to… cross any lines."

"I thought it was your lines we were worrying about, not mine," Tony reminded him impatiently. He shifted a bit closer to the other man, almost straddling one of Bruce's legs, then moaned faintly as his morning erection brushed against something other than the bed. He could feel the heat radiating from Bruce so he knew he wasn't alone. "Just kiss me again if you're not going to do anything else," he demanded then, forgetting whatever they may have been arguing about just a moment earlier.

Bruce kissed him, tentatively opening his mouth, letting them play. Tony wondered if he worried about the radiation in his blood and that this little bit of contact might hurt him. Tony sure hoped not, knowing it would be a turn-off for them both.

Since the other man obviously wasn't getting handsy, Tony rubbed himself against Bruce's body to get some relief. It would not take off the edge, not really, but it was better than forcing his hard-on to disappear. And perhaps if he rubbed against Bruce's resistance long enough…

One of Bruce's hands moved up along his ribs, tracing the bone up to the spine, making Tony shudder a bit at the sensation, then he felt the fingers map the path up between his shoulder blades and then to his neck, tugging at the hair before the fingers rubbed the base of his scalp.

Tony's eyes rolled in his head just a little. "Do that again."

Bruce chuckled, his fingers pressing further against his skull, delicious and just right.

"Damn that feels good," Tony praised, eyes closed, body still as Bruce made small sensations run down his body.

"I know other places like this, too," Bruce promised.

"That makes you sound almost filthy, Dr. Banner."

"I didn't mean _that_ spot, Mr. Stark, although I'm sure you would love me to give it a stroke or two."

"Is that what you think?" Tony asked, forcing his eyes open.

Bruce was biting his tongue, he had to be; he had said something that made sense to him, but which they hadn't talked about prior to this moment. That would be a discussion Tony remembered, no matter the time, the place, or his state of drunkenness. "Well, most men who know anything about G-spots would agree," Bruce tried to back pedal without revealing too much.

"Not what you were originally thinking about," Tony shot back, narrowing his eyes. "I can tell, don't play me for a fool." He waited a few seconds. "Could it be, Dr. Banner, that you want to give me a sexy prostate exam?"

Bruce flushed – which looked just as sexy on his sun-kissed skin as it looked on Tony's.

"Well?" Tony prodded.

"Uhh… Can we just go back to what we were doing before?"

"After you tell me what that was all about."

"Tony…"

"I can do this all day."

"I'm sure."

"I just want you to admit it."

"What?"

"That you want to play with my ass. That you think I would like it."

"Would you?"

Tony stopped to think for about one second. "Yes."

Bruce let out the breath he had been holding.

"Was that so hard?" Tony asked, grinning.

"I wasn't sure if you… Well, I'm still not because I can never be sure with you."

"Bullshit. You're one of the few people who could see through me from the first moment we met – which, I admit, is a bit disturbing, but I like you and am willing to let it go."

"Thanks, I guess," Bruce smiled at him. He had one hand still curled at the base of Tony's neck and he ruffled the hair there.

"Tell me about your dreams," Tony insisted next because he had a feeling Bruce's confident slip about Tony's sexual preferences had something to do with what had been going on in his head for weeks.

Another blush and Bruce looked away from his eyes, landing somewhere near the arc reactor; people seemed to take it as a suitable alternative for looking him in the eye. "There's only one dream, really. Small changes, but essentially it is just that one scene."

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Didn't it get a bit boring?"

Bruce glanced up at him again. "Not in any way you would think."

Tony grinned then. "So I'm amazing even in repetitive dream sex!" Bruce pinched his thigh to stop his self-congratulatory victory dance and refocus his attention back on the matter at hand. "Would you like to show me?" Tony added then, leaning closer, kissing his jaw briefly before pulling back again. "I want you to show me."

"We agreed –"

"We don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with at this juncture," Tony deflated a little, but it didn't kill his spirits just yet. "Just show me. Talk me through it. I feel like there's some inside joke considering our slumberland-affair that you're not letting me in on although you should."

Bruce chuckled. "It's not that amazing. I have a simple mind when it comes to… erotic dreams, it would seem. It's not nearly elaborate enough to hold your interest, I'm sure."

"You can't bore me to death with erotic dreams, especially if I'm involved," Tony promised earnestly. "Show me," he said then, softer, knowing that sometimes sweet-talking was exactly what it took to get Bruce more comfortable with something he was chary about.

"The room's always dark," Bruce started, then slid his hands down – to Tony's hips and urged him to the side so that he was finally straddling Bruce's hips. Even with the underwear on it was undeniably the most erotic thing they had ever done. "You're above me, and… I can see the arc moving. Up and down, slowly, smoothly. It feels good. I run my hands up your skin," Bruce went on, his hands sliding up from his hips, along the ribs, all the way up until one hand covered the blue shine of the arc on his chest.

Tony didn't breathe. He could imagine it, almost feel the dream, and he had a sudden urge to start moving although he knew it would break the moment and it wouldn't be the same.

Bruce dropped his hands, just like that, looking uncomfortable again. "I'm not sure if you would ever consider doing that. I know you prefer women so –"

"Bruce," Tony interrupted him, leaning forward until he was almost lying on top of him, arms on either side of Bruce's head keeping his weight up. "I don't see any women in this room. And… I would have no issues about doing that, or anything else with you. Frankly, if I'm going to sleep with a guy – which I have in the past, let's make no bashful mistakes about that – I mostly do it because there are no female parts involved. And if you ever start jonesin' to play the so-called 'submissive' part, I'm sure we can discuss all that although I do have a bit of a preference for being the one –"

Bruce interrupted his monologue by pulling him down into another kiss which dragged on until Tony had lost his train of thought entirely. He felt like Bruce may have done it on purpose. The brown eyes looked up at him when they parted for much-needed air, a hand in Tony's hair keeping him from pulling away. "Thank you," he said.

"We haven't even done anything yet," Tony reminded him.

"I didn't thank you for that."

"Then what?"

"For… you being you."

"That, Doctor, is not something you should ever have to thank me for. But it is my pleasure, nonetheless." He guessed he had lifted some invisible weight from Bruce's chest and that shouldn't make him feel as good as it did.

"Kiss me again?" Bruce requested and Tony decided he would have to work to make sure Bruce never had to ask in the future.

_to be continued…_


	5. Chapter 4: Eyecatching

**Author's note:**I decided it is time for my first Clint POV (I hope it doesn't suck too much or sound weird).

Also, this chapter is dedicated to my beta, Mythra, who pointed out Hawkeye's voyeuristic tendencies…

* * *

**Chapter 4: Eye-catching**

* * *

**Avengers Mansion**  
**Manhattan, New York, NY, USA**

Banner and Stark returned after six days at the Stark Tower.

Well, 'Stark Tower' for now, since Clint had overheard discussions between Stark and Director Fury that the tower might become a second home to the Avengers in Manhattan. Why they needed another base, Clint could only guess. Partially he thought it was another one of Stark's stubborn ideas.

Personally, Clint liked the heights of the Tower so he wouldn't object to having his own personal space there: it beat most of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s quarters he had grown used to over the years.

He watched as the two men entered, noticing the subtle change – or not-so-subtle because even Rogers stopped for a moment to look at them, then nodded in greeting and kept walking; he was on his way to the gym area, probably to show a few punching bags who's boss. Clint wondered if it might be better if they tried talking their leader into spending more time outside the gym, getting himself acquainted with the 21st century.

Stark watched Rogers leave and shrugged, then looked at Banner. "Lab?" he asked.

"Sure," Banner smiled.

As if they hadn't spent six days in a lab already.

Perhaps they hadn't.

Clint narrowed his eyes, looking closer. Their mannerisms with each other had been easy since the beginning. Clint was a bit sorry he hadn't been there since day one, but thinking of that made his mind jump back to the unpleasantness of being controlled by Loki and he had spent enough dark hours beating himself up about that. Everyone kept telling him it wasn't his fault, but he had a hard time letting it sink in.

The two men moved towards the stairs leading down to the lab area, talking about some mathematic problem they had been solving and clearly didn't agree on.

"How was the vacation?" Clint finally asked.

Banner jumped, his head shooting around to find him perched near the ceiling on top of a sturdy bookshelf.

"How does he get up there?" Stark muttered.

"It was fine," Banner responded to his question with a nervous twist of his hands.

"Get anything done?" Clint asked next.

"Since when do you care?" Stark shot back, voice sharp as if Clint had stepped on his favorite toy.

"You promised me new arrows."

"I'm still working on the designs. You asked for something you didn't think was possible, remember?"

"And you said you could do it with one hand tied behind your back. The right hand."

Stark made that noiseless sniff, nose and lip twitching. "I'm getting there."

Clint just nodded and the two kept walking.

"One day he's going to fall down from there," Stark was saying as they rounded a corner and started descending the steps. "Don't you dare coddle him when he does. He's a grown-ass man and shouldn't be climbing on top of furniture. Maybe I should build him some rafters."

"I'm sure he would like that."

"You're no fun at all, Banner," Stark said sourly.

* * *

A lot of interesting things happened at the Avengers Mansion – mostly when Thor was around, providing the team – sans Stark – amusement with his curiosity and bafflement at Midgardian customs. Stark usually got a headache from said antics since it more often than not resulted in destruction of his property, but he always replaced whatever Thor managed to destroy.

Rogers was the same although his way of getting to know the modern world was more cautious and he was always apologetic if he even thought he had broken something. Stark made snappy remarks at Rogers since with Thor he couldn't use them for lack of understanding on the Asgardian's part; Thor had an excellent filter towards sarcasm although he always seemed to know if he was being outright insulted, and the Thunderer's reply to that was brandishing Mjolnir.

There was an unspoken agreement to try and not have Thor use Mjolnir outside training areas – much like not antagonizing Banner to avoid the possibility of a Hulk-out.

However, with Thor currently visiting home and Rogers slowly relaxing in their new base slash home, the new point of interest became Banner and Stark.

The touches came first, hidden from others – but not from Clint since he always chose a spot where no one cared to look and thus stayed invisible to the rest of the room. They were nothing special; fingers tracing a wrist, a brief touch against clothed back, and sometimes Stark's fingers slid into the loops of Banner's pants, holding them like a child would cling to a parent.

It was all very subtle but increasingly more bold.

Holding came second.

After one brief but particularly brutal mission where Iron Man took a direct hit in the chest from some strange concoction of a weapon, the Hulk had practically thrown himself on top of their fallen comrade, roaring angrily as another missile hit him – which would have hit Iron Man had the Hulk not been there – then launched himself at the weapon with such ferocity there was not one whole circuit board left to analyze after the big guy was done.

The team pretty much stopped to watch the Hulk rip it apart with gusto, muttering threats at the mangled weapon until it had been all but pulverized between the mighty palms. They absentmindedly rounded up the criminals and had S.H.I.E.L.D. agents take them away, then turned to find the Hulk carefully helping Iron Man back on his feet, the suit spitting out sparks. The arc reactor looked whole, though, and that unknotted a weight in all their chests.

Afterwards, when they were back at the Mansion and Banner had slept it off, Clint saw the doctor slip up behind Stark in the kitchen while everyone else was still resting – save for Clint, who found it more relaxing to rest on top of one of his favorite vantage points, the space between the ceiling and the next story's floor which was mainly occupied by cables and wires. It had a crawl space, as he had soon discovered, which provided him a lookout from various vents and grids when he moved around.

He watched as Banner held Stark, his grip desperate at first, then growing gentler as the tension left his body. A moment later Stark slid one of his own hands to hold Banner's crossed ones on his stomach.

"I'm fine," Stark muttered. "The suit's designed for this kind of thing."

"I could feel it… through the haze; the other guy was worried," Banner replied, his voice quivering with emotion.

"He protected me," Stark agreed. "Did a number on that new weapon I would have loved to take a look at."

"I think you couldn't have talked him out of not taking it apart," Banner smiled against Stark's neck then gave it a gentle, lingering kiss, just beneath the hairline.

Stark closed his eyes, looking more relaxed and still than he ever was.

Eventually they pulled apart, took a plate of bread, cheese and fruit with them and disappeared in the direction of Stark's room. Clint wondered if he would get a chance to get close enough to get a look at what they did there, but Natasha walked into the kitchen before he could start shifting around in the cramped space.

She was the only one he really knew and trusted. Sure, they were a team and were getting there, but the two of them had worked together and been there for each other for years. She was the only one he could think of as a person, not just a name on the side of the locker and a codename in the field.

Natasha went to the fridge, took out one of her favorite juice boxes and set it on the table. She went for a glass, quiet and graceful even when she wasn't really trying, then stopped and looked up. "Clint?"

He sighed and started crawling out, finding the nearest exit point – a maintenance hatch, opening it and sliding down, closing it before walking to the kitchen. She gave him a look and took out another glass, setting it beside hers. She didn't even ask if he wanted a drink, but he would accept it since it was there.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Watching," Clint shrugged, sipping the juice. Expensive stuff, he could taste it; Stark might not do the shopping himself but he managed to get the fridge filled with things each of them liked but in most cases couldn't afford.

"Tony and Bruce?" she raised an eyebrow; she was having an easier time adjusting to first-name basis, although she never called Stark 'Tony' when he might hear it.

"Yeah," Clint replied, leaning against a worktop. "Have you noticed how they've been acting since they got back?"

She thought about it, didn't even bother to admonish him for spying, knowing he didn't do it intentionally; he just liked his privacy, which meant hiding away, and if things happened within his line of vision he couldn't help it. "They've gotten closer, but then, that's been going on ever since the big guy almost… killed Tony," she finished painfully.

Clint knew she still had problems when the Hulk came out. It would take time before she got past the near-death experience with the green monster. Yet equally painful was the tragic ending to the team sparring session where Stark almost died. Clint was amazed the guy was even breathing these days, but something had to be said about modern medicine and the guy's determination to get healthy.

"This is different," Clint got back on topic. "I've seen them do everything but kiss." He recalled the kiss Banner had given Stark's neck; more intimate than most sloppy kisses he spied between people. "Do you think they could be mingling?"

"And if they are?" Natasha challenged him. Of course she did; it wasn't as if the two of them had always followed the S.H.I.E.L.D. guidebook when it came to fraternization of fellow agents.

Clint thought about it very carefully. "You know how Stark is."

"I think Bruce knows that, too," Natasha reasoned. "He doesn't seem like a guy who would run head long into a relationship if he wasn't certain he could take it. Frankly, I'm surprised if they do get it on…" She stepped forward then, caressing her fingers through his hair in a swift, comforting caress. "Stop watching them if it makes you uncomfortable. I'm sure there are places for you to hang out where they don't."

"Are you offering?" Clint cracked, deciding to take the bait he thought was being dangled in front of him.

Natasha gave him one of those rare, honest smiles and leaned forward to kiss him briefly. "I didn't spend an entire weekend disconnecting J.A.R.V.I.S. from my room for nothing."

"Stark won't notice?"

"I'm sure he will – and won't do anything about it. He fears me, poor guy."

"Wonder how that happened," Clint grinned, taking his glass and following Natasha down the hall; she had taken the juice box with her, clearly intending to enjoy the rest of it in the peace of her own room – and he had been invited to join her. She usually had something stronger stashed away, too, which would go well with the juice and the post-battle tension.

"I can't imagine," she replied, but he knew she had a perfectly good idea – she had told him, after all, of the needle in the café and posing as a harmless assistant at Stark Industries even when Stark knew who and what she was.

Especially the needle.

That made him smile every time.

_to be continued…_


	6. Chapter 5: Strutting

**Chapter 5: Strutting**

* * *

Freeze-dried strawberry flakes were on the day's menu when Bruce stepped into Tony's workshop at the Avengers Mansion. He looked around the space as his hand dug into the bag of treats. The workshop was different from most of the labs because it was Tony's place to play solo. He invited Bruce there often enough, but this was Iron Man's lair, so to speak, much like his workshop at his Malibu home. Whenever Tony worked on weapons and gear for the other Avengers, he tended to use the other labs, although he had some very special machinery here.

"Hey," Tony poked his head up from where he was fixing some hip part of the armor. "Strawberries?" he asked, pointing the diagnostic panel in the general direction of the table beside Bruce.

"Already helped myself," Bruce admitted but took another scoop of the dried berries before stepping closer to Tony's workstation. "Is there a problem?"

"Just upgrading a little," Tony replied, tapping the panel and then allowed J.A.R.V.I.S. to work out the calculations and fabrication of necessary components that he couldn't do himself. "Rhodey's bringing in his suit later, I think. He keeps complaining I don't give him the best stuff, which is kind of unfair, and he says the armor is drafty. How is that even possible? If it was drafty, he would most likely suffocate or at least get a nosebleed while flying," he went on muttering, putting his tools away.

"Maybe the air-conditioning is one notch too high," Bruce suggested.

Tony snorted with laughter. "You dare call it air-conditioning? I'll show you air-conditioning."

"You don't have air-conditioning in your high-tech suit of armor?" Bruce challenged.

"I don't call it 'air-conditioning'. God!" Tony threw up his hands dramatically – then muttered to have J.A.R.V.I.S. check the air-circulation readings in Rhodey's War Machine armor.

Bruce returned to take a few more strawberry flakes while Tony sat down to complete his day's project. Before he noticed the bag was empty and he peered into it to make sure there were no more flakes left among the red dust.

"Did you eat it all?" Tony asked.

Bruce looked away from the truly empty bag. "Yeah. Did you want some?"

"Nah," Tony whirled back to his screens. "You should eat real food if you're hungry. I've been told to do that."

_"Indeed, sir,"_ J.A.R.V.I.S. chorused.

"I was waiting for you to finish," Bruce replied. "I just wrapped up analyzing the biochemical the bank-robbers used last week to melt that vault wall and came to see if you were done."

"Why do they never bug you about eating?" Tony wondered out loud.

"If I'm hungry and cranky, no one wants to bug me about anything," Bruce noted. "The perks of being able to turn into an enormous green rage monster."

Tony snapped his fingers, the screens going blank. "Are you cranky?" he asked, clearly finished now as he got up and sauntered over in a way that was meant to catch Bruce's attention – well, anyone's attention, but Bruce was the only one in the room if you didn't count the AI that had probably seen it all and more.

Bruce gave him a smile, not failing to drop his eyes along Tony's body before lifting them again. "Not particularly, but I might be if you don't get me something nice to eat soon."

"I'm not your maid," Tony narrowed his eyes, made a vague gesture with his hand then stopped in front of him.

"No, but it is your turn to choose where we're going to order out," Bruce went on with his earlier tone, then gave in and slid one hand across Tony's side, fingers dipping into the curve of his back.

Tony grinned, pleased, thinking he had lured him in. Well, when was Tony ever wrong about most things? "Any requests?" he returned Bruce's attention back to the promise of food.

"Something edible. No kebabs," he added. "Maybe dessert, too."

"I wonder if the other guy has a sweet tooth as well," Tony mused.

"He eats anything he thinks is edible – regardless of its nutritional value or digestive attributes," Bruce replied, knowing only too well… It was amazing he hadn't ever woken up with a license plate stuck between his teeth like some Florida alligator.

"We should educate him," Tony decided then leaned in to give him a kiss. "You taste of strawberries," he mused afterwards, hovering a mere inch from Bruce's face.

Bruce licked his lips, accidentally touching Tony's in the process that seemed to ignite a spark between them and he tugged the other man closer, allowing Tony to explore before following his tongue back to the engineer's mouth. Tony, as usual, had no objections about that and Bruce really had to ask him how he was breathing while they kissed because it was usually Bruce who pulled back for air.

"Maybe Indian food?" he suggested, gearing his brain back towards food. "From that place we like." They had found a fairly authentic restaurant that made him sometimes miss the food from when he had been running from the government. He preferred this, though, being able to enjoy his meal in peace and not look over his shoulder between mouthfuls.

Tony led the way upstairs and called in an order after asking J.A.R.V.I.S. who was present; Thor was once again visiting Jane Foster after a quick trip home to Asgard but everyone else was spread out within the grounds.

While they waited for the food they sat down at the big living room table surrounded by couches and chairs, which was the team's favorite place to gather. Well, mostly they gathered for dinner and not much else although there had been a few movie-nights and some attempts at board games to grow the team spirit. It was clear, though, that anything that could be made into a contest could also be turned into an argument or a fight.

They sat in silence, Tony playing with his phone for a moment before his foot slid over to tap Bruce's own. It brought a smile to the scientist's lips and he pushed back, making Tony's mouth twitch as well. They went at it until there was the sound of the food delivery arriving. They didn't even have time to get up from the couch, much less reach the door, before Steve had intercepted the food and entered the living room with the heavenly smelling bags in tow. It didn't take long before Clint and Natasha showed up as well; whenever there was food, the Avengers didn't need a call to assemble.

Everyone dug in and focused on comparing different spices and textures. As long as there was plenty of food to go around, Bruce had noticed, there was no room for argument or disagreements; everyone could eat what they wanted, as much as they wanted, and someone – possibly Tony – paid the bill without a hitch.

Bruce looked at the man who had moved to sit right beside him when the others arrived. They never talked about it, the expenses of having the Avengers around, but someone was paying the bills and simply re-naming the Stark Mansion into Avengers Mansion didn't mean S.H.I.E.L.D. felt inclined to meddle with the living costs. Tony had mentioned something about a trust fund in his mother's name that took care of the place, but that didn't mean it covered all expenses.

As much as people thought Tony was self-obsessed and selfish, Bruce had begun to see the man underneath and wished this experience with the Avengers wouldn't push him even further from people.

He hoped the same for their blossoming relationship, the reason for the success of which still eluded him.

"So," Clint started after they had all had their fill mostly. Steve, of course, was filling his plate for the third time, his metabolism demanding more food than the rest of them could imagine consuming – especially when Thor's godly appetite was elsewhere.

"What?" Tony replied. It was always Tony, responding to anyone's dare or half-finished thought.

"When are you two coming out of the closet?" Clint went on.

Bruce, who had been sipping from his bottle of water, snorted said water up his nose in an attempt not to spit it all over the table.

Tony looked at him before regarding Clint. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"I thought Tony Stark would actually have the balls to be honest about suddenly batting for the other team instead of skulking around in the shadows."

Bruce coughed and lifted his face long enough to see Natasha give the archer a pointed look but she said nothing – nor did she seemed surprised, not even a little. Was she ever surprised by anything – and if she was, would she show it?

"I don't see how that's any of your business," Tony snapped at Clint.

Bruce took a paper-towel from the table and wiped his face, blowing his nose quickly, trying to process the sudden edge of hostility in Tony's voice.

"What are you talking about?" Steve asked, sounding confused.

"Come on, Cap! Don't say you haven't seen them give each other those extended team hugs none of us ever get included in, or those long looks – or that you haven't spotted them smooching in some corner of the mansion." Clint looked victorious at every note. Clearly he had spotted it all.

"Didn't take you for a stalker," Tony noted dryly, "but it fits. Is that why S.H.I.E.L.D. originally hired you? You're just their type."

"That's weak even for you," Clint shot back, sending a balled up paper napkin flying towards him.

Tony caught it before it hit his face. "Yeah? You think? I'll show you weak –"

"Enough," Bruce and Steve said at the same time, then looked at each other. "Don't get into a fight over this," Bruce went on at Steve's nod to let him continue.

Tony leaned back against the couch, tossing the ball of paper to the table with a look of distaste. "I don't care what he thinks," he muttered.

"But you think I do?" Bruce prodded.

Tony looked at him from the corner of his eye. This protective streak wasn't new, but it was sharper now that they were romantically involved. Maybe Tony just didn't want to fuck this up, so soon after Pepper, feeling like he had to protect their relationship at all costs. Or maybe he thought Bruce would embrace other people's doubts and call it off.

"Bruce," Natasha said when Tony didn't speak up. "Are you sure this is a good idea? Of all the people in the world, Stark might not be the ideal partner to start an affair with."

Tony snorted at that. "That makes so much sense! Bruce thinks I should be protected from him, and the rest of you think he should be protected from me." He shuffled down even further on the couch like a sulking child.

Steve cleared his throat while Bruce was still trying to find an answer that would satiate both his disgruntled lover and his teammates. "So you are… involved?"

"Yes," Bruce said. That was the easy part. He had had no illusions the others wouldn't have noticed eventually.

"Well…" Steve seemed to turn it over in his head, the concept clearly giving him some trouble. "Is it going to affect the team?"

"No," Bruce said as Tony sat up, argument almost flying from his lips as his body tensed. Bruce lay a hand on his thigh, willing him to stay quiet a moment longer; Tony had a way of getting Steve all wound up and taking up a hostile stance when it wasn't necessary. "It is between the two of us," Bruce went on, his fingers drawn tight on Tony's cloth-covered skin. "I don't see how it will make things different out there."

"Okay," Steve nodded. "Good. Because if it doesn't… then it won't matter to me." He looked at the two of them, still teetering on the edge of some revelation. "Congratulations?" he offered then.

"We're not getting married," Tony managed before Bruce could will him into not replying. "Times have changed since you last dipped your toes in the dating pool."

"Yes," Steve replied, voice strained with sudden anger and perhaps just a little bit of shame. "Changed for the better, I hope," he finished and stood up, leaving the room.

"That was smooth," Bruce noted. "You could be civil with him, just for once."

"I don't need his approval or permission on how to live my life – or with whom," Tony announced, then looked at Clint and Natasha. "That includes you."

Natasha nodded crisply, got up and took a box of dessert with her as she left.

Clint remained perched on his seat; it seemed he felt more comfortable in that position if sitting down was optional.

"Is there something else you wanted to say?" Tony asked him, in full-on attack-mode.

Clint shrugged, the mask in place that didn't show anything at all. "I don't have a problem with the two of you hooking up," he finally said.

"Funny; I kind of didn't get that feeling from what you were just saying," Tony replied.

"I just think it's bullshit you're hiding it – especially here." Then he got up and disappeared down the same way Natasha had gone. Bruce briefly wondered if the two of them were going to split the box of dessert like the spoils of war.

Tony sat in silence; Bruce could almost hear him think.

"Let's have dessert," he suggested, pulling one of the remaining untouched boxes closer.

The other man let out a breath that was almost like a sigh and twisted around to get a better look at the treats. A little sugar intake never hurt things and Bruce would rather not hash out what had just happened: it could wait until later.

"Do you think he gets off watching us?" Tony mused after a while, clearly unable to let it go. He had his mouth full of rice pudding as he spoke.

Bruce was glad he wasn't drinking this time. "Clint?" he asked, astonished that Tony's brain could go there, but then, it was Tony…

"Fucking Barton…" Tony muttered darkly, chewing.

"You know he's always watching," Bruce tried to brush it off and not think about it. He tried not to pay attention to being watched here, telling himself he was safe and didn't need to be paranoid or ready to take off at the first sign of trouble. Thinking of Clint watching them in moments that were supposed to be private was a bit unsettling. "I'm sure he's not doing it on purpose," he decided then but didn't quite believe it himself.

The look Tony gave him suggested he didn't buy it either.

"He had a point, though," Bruce went on. "Should we be hiding, especially in our own home?" If the Avengers Mansion could be called 'home', but why not? It was as close to one as he would get anytime soon, he suspected.

Tony reached for a pastry dumpling and popped it into his mouth as he regarded Bruce. "You want to bring it out to the open?"

Bruce shrugged but knew that wasn't an actual answer. Just like you couldn't make scientific discoveries by pussyfooting around the possibility of an explosion or a meltdown, he couldn't expect for them to move anywhere if he refused to give Tony the variables. "We've been at this for a while… We're both still alive," he observed. Tony made a face, as if he didn't appreciate Bruce's attempt to joke in this matter. "It's been going well, and when we're around the team, I don't see why we can't just relax."

"Okay," Tony replied, not even thinking it over or talking back to him.

"Okay?"

"I was never a discreet person when it came to this."

"We are not having sex in public," Bruce rolled his eyes; it didn't shock him Tony would try to joke his way out of actually responding with insight.

"In order to have sex in public I think we would have to have sex in the first place," Tony replied.

Bruce reached for more dessert. Maybe women had the right idea about chocolate intake; he might have to look into that.

Tony pursed his lips but let it go for now.

Above them, J.A.R.V.I.S. let out a sound that was entirely too close to a long-suffering sigh.

* * *

_"Sir, Mr. Rhodes has arrived on the premises. I have guided him down to the lab area."_

Tony sat up in bed, startled out of the sleep he had fallen into although he had planned on running simulations on his tablet until Rhodey chose to arrive. The tablet was carefully set on top of the bedside drawer – no doubt thanks to Bruce – and when he turned to look, the other man had succumbed to sleep as well, a book resting on his chest, glasses on his nose.

Before getting up Tony returned the favor and put Bruce's book and glasses to the side, then crawled out of bed, pulled on some clothes and padded out.

In the aftermath of the strange team supper they hadn't talked all that much. It happened whenever they talked about sex; Bruce would shut down, wear that guarded expression, and Tony would once again remind himself it was _too damn early_. As J.A.R.V.I.S. had so delightfully pointed out to him, Tony used to fuck up any chance at a relationship by turning it into sex. Well, back then he hadn't really looked for anything more stable – although he had thought he had a shot with Pepper, and he did because it wasn't the romance that killed their relationship; it was the sight that welcomed him once he descended to the lab level: War Machine stood in the middle of the room, robotic arms at the ready to take off his suit at the first command.

"Hey," Tony noted, suppressing a yawn.

_"Would you like some coffee, sir?"_ J.A.R.V.I.S. asked helpfully.

"Thanks," Tony acknowledged and stepped over to the suit that used to be his but had gone through so many modifications that it was hard to see it. "We should get you some new armor," he quipped. "Re-design. Get rid of the Hammer tech that keeps downgrading my work."

"I made you a list of stuff to look at," Rhodey replied a bit bitingly. "Now get this thing off me."

Tony smiled and snapped his fingers, watching as the suit came off. Since it was an older model, there were some hitches and he had to actually go in there with a screwdriver and a bunch of other tools to get the rest of it off his friend. James Rhodes almost stepped on him as he pulled his feet out of the boots that refused to open the entire way.

"What have you done to my suit?" Tony complained.

J.A.R.V.I.S. was already running up schematics on the changes and compiling data for Rhodey's desired changes and improvements.

"Don't give me that crap," Rhodey noted and leaned back against a table that was slightly less cluttered than the other flat surfaces. "You gave War Machine your blessing."

"Tell me again, are we still working out the details of routine maintenance?" Tony shot back. "Or do you have a billing address?"

Rhodey didn't reply, just wandered over to where J.A.R.V.I.S. had just finished making a cup of coffee. Without a word Rhodey took it and sipped it carefully.

"Hey!" Tony argued.

"It's late, I need a boost," Rhodey defended himself. "Need to go places in the morning and my sleep will be cut short thanks to this detour."

"Yeah? I dragged my ass out of bed for you," Tony muttered.

"When are you coming back to Malibu?"

Somehow he had expected them to land on that question. "I don't know," he said honestly.

Rhodey was silent for a bit, sipping Tony's coffee. Sure, the AI was already preparing another one but it wasn't the point.

"Is it about Pepper, or the gig with the Avengers?" Rhodey asked next. "I know she feels bad and all, about the way it ended, but you'll have to meet her half-way. Maybe it's better you guys are back to being friends, no benefits."

"It was more than that," Tony said, leaning over the suit, trying to focus his mind on that.

"Yeah, it… seemed like it." The other man hesitated for a moment. "Are you okay?" he asked then and it sounded like he was talking about more than Pepper now. "Pepper told me you had some kind of freak accident, but by the time she remembered to tell me you were already back in the saddle."

"I'm fine," Tony muttered; he knew Pepper had meant the incident with the Hulk, which landed him out of the saddle for quite a bit. Sometimes it still felt like he hadn't climbed back in yet, but maybe that was just what Bruce projected on him. It served as a reminder of how long indeed it had been since he had been home and seen Rhodey. "We should catch up," he said then, straightening, mind filled with fresh resolve. "You can go straight to your meeting from here. I have coffee. I can get a plane or a car to take you."

Rhodey gave him a sad smile. "And the suit?"

"It won't be ready tonight."

"Figured." He narrowed his eyes. "Don't tweak it too much. It isn't one of your toys. I like it the way it is."

"So why the complaints?" Tony challenged him and went to the coffee maker to get the fresh cup of coffee.

"The problems are affecting the usability of the suit," Rhodey snapped. "Just focus on those, okay?"

Tony sort of nodded but didn't promise to do such a thing; there were improvements he wanted to make and he knew Rhodey would like them even if he didn't think he would.

A door opened and feet padded over the floor. "Thought you might come down here," Bruce mused, his shirt rumpled, hair all over the place; he must have woken up and gotten out of bed to search for him. He hadn't even put on pants, which amused Tony a little.

"Half-asleep still, are we?" he teased softly.

Bruce frowned, stopped, then looked down and blushed a bit – especially when he noticed Rhodey who was standing very still. "Right. Sorry. Do you have…?"

"The shelf over there," Tony pointed. Why he had extra clothes in a lab only Bruce could understand; you never knew when an experiment could backfire – literally.

Bruce shuffled over and pulled on a pair of pants to cover the boxer shorts he was wearing – a pair Tony had gotten him.

"Meet Dr. Bruce Banner," Tony said by way of introduction. Bruce came around to shake Rhodey's hand. "Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes," Tony went on with the introductions, "one of my oldest friends and also the only man who's had the guts to steal one of my suits."

"War Machine," Bruce smiled. "I've heard a lot about you."

"You have?" Tony frowned.

Bruce shot him a look.

"Good to meet you, Doctor," Rhodey replied, ever polite. "Your name sounds familiar. You work with the Avengers?"

"Indeed I do," Bruce said, shuffling his feet a little, suddenly nervous as he realized Rhodey's military background. "For now, anyway."

"He keeps saying that, but he's in for the long haul," Tony tried lightening the mood, stepping over and placing an arm over Bruce's shoulders. "Him and the big guy."

Something must have clicked in Rhodey's brain. Of course he would know whom the Avengers had included, out of professional and personal interest, and since the others were pretty noticeable it left only one option. "You're the Hulk."

Bruce gave a tense smile.

"He's off-limits," Tony said. "I don't need to tell you that, Jim."

Rhodey gave him a quizzical look, as if trying to see beneath the tone. "Can I talk to you for a moment?" he said then, setting the empty cup aside.

"If it's about him," Tony started, hand tightening on Bruce's shoulder.

"It's fine. I'll go back up," Bruce said quickly and exited the room so fast it was amazing he wasn't actually running.

"J, make sure he doesn't… wander off," Tony said.

_"I shall, sir,"_ J.A.R.V.I.S. replied.

Tony turned his attention back to his friend and gave Rhodey a biting look.

"Tony, you know who he is!" Rhodey started. "The military has a long list of rules when it comes to a possible encounter with him. I can only imagine why since the whole world knows what he turns into."

"He's safe here," Tony said flatly. "The military can go fuck themselves before I or S.H.I.E.L.D. will give him up. Don't make me re-negotiate our friendship because of this, Rhodes."

Rhodey blinked. "That's not what I meant, Tony, but he's…"

"He almost killed me once; I know exactly how dangerous he is," Tony snapped.

"Killed you?"

"That 'freak accident' Pepper told you about? That was the Hulk's fist smashing in my entire chest. And before you start telling me to resign from the team you should actually be proud that I've been allowed to join, I'll tell you that it was Dr. Banner who saved my life after his greener half lost it because of my stupid antics."

Rhodey blinked again, taking it all in. "I wasn't going to tell you to leave the Avengers; that's probably the greatest stunt you've ever pulled, getting to join them. Working alongside Captain America…"

Of course Rhodey would have a hard-on about that. Tony should have guessed.

"I'm just… What's going on between you and Banner?" Rhodey asked, his face worried and uncertain. He didn't look as tired as when he still was a liaison for Stark Industries, but his eyes had that same look in them.

Tony shifted. He hadn't thought the other man would catch onto it so quick, but Rhodey knew him, had known him for years – longer than any of the Avengers – so maybe it was obvious to him. "It's not about replacing Pepper," he said finally, knowing it would come up and wanting to get it out of the way. "Me and him… we click. We mesh. We speak the same language, and while there are some… areas we have yet to explore, we're on the same level. We fight together," he finished a bit lamely, not knowing how to put it into words what he and Bruce had – and what he and Pepper never would have shared.

Rhodey nodded slowly. "Does Pepper know?"

"No," Tony slapped his reply out there so fast he couldn't even think of something else to go with it.

"Are you planning on telling her?"

"I… don't know. Eventually, yes. We just came out to the team today," Tony recalled, which did make his newest relationship sound a lot less amazing than it actually was.

"You'll have to tell her eventually. Make sure you do," Rhodey pointed a finger at him.

"Yes, Dad," Tony rolled his eyes.

"Good. Now get me that plane and a car; I need to be somewhere in six hours and I can't go there in the suit even if you got it ready in time."

"You're still a sourpuss, you know that?" Tony noted as he had J.A.R.V.I.S. set it up.

"I won't even go to the trouble of explaining what you still are or aren't, Mr. Stark," the man threw over his shoulder before entering the bathroom to freshen up before the trip.

Tony simply grinned, laughed and shook his head in amusement.

_to be continued…_


	7. Chapter 6: Reality Check

**Chapter 6: Reality Check**

* * *

When Pepper found out, she got a worse first impression than was completely fair; she walked into the Stark Tower living room area to find Tony straddling Bruce on the couch, kissing him. That was perhaps their most uninhibited make-out session to date, including some heavy petting and panting when they ran out of air, and it totally didn't reflect on what their relationship was usually like.

In hindsight, perhaps if Tony had actually _told_ Pepper about it instead of waiting for her to find out on her own – which he could admit contained a huge possibility of walking in on them in a compromising position – it might have gone over much smoother.

_Might_ being the key word.

Perhaps Tony just assumed Pepper would take it as she always did with his dalliances; she had been working for him far longer than they had been together. Maybe both of them would just bounce back to what they had been to each other prior to them dating.

If Tony had actually spent any time thinking about it, though, he would have known he was simply avoiding telling her the truth and making it worse by doing that.

As it was, she stood there staring, beautiful and immaculate as ever, standing so straight it made Tony's back ache in sympathy. It was the weight of her stare – Tony refused to call it a _glare_ – that made Tony raise his eyes and meet the steady gaze of the woman he expected to find by his side daily, even now. This place had been their home first; the Tower had been her baby although Tony refused to give her all the credit she probably deserved. It made him feel a bit dirty when she found him with Bruce like this and he didn't like how that felt.

Tony leaned back into Bruce's embrace, the other man looking at him, not seeing the source of the distraction yet, his back turned towards Pepper and the elevator door. "You have something in mind?" he asked, voice soft and a notch deeper. Tony might have enjoyed exploring that but right now his mind was veering away from their make-out session.

"If we can postpone this a little, I just might," Tony replied, glancing briefly at Bruce's face as it was overcome by confusion. Not waiting for Bruce to answer, Tony looked up again. "Hey, Pepper."

Bruce jerked around to look behind himself, probably pulling a muscle or two in his neck.

"Dr. Banner," Pepper inclined her head; they had met after the Chitauri battle. When she and Tony were still together. She had known Tony liked Bruce, wanted to keep him around, and hadn't stood in the way when Tony tried to bribe Bruce with all manner of R&D goodies. Maybe she had known it was more than that even then – or maybe not, because she looked a bit startled. Not that Bruce could see it.

The man beneath Tony had flushed a little. "Miss Potts," he stammered by way of reply. "I didn't hear you come in."

"Neither of you did," she said pointedly. "Can I borrow Tony for a moment?"

Tony drew a careful breath. Her tone revealed nothing but they had worked together for years. He could tell when he was being taken like a lamb to slaughter.

"Of course," Bruce was quick to answer, pushing Tony off to the side until he lay half-sprawled on the couch and got up, disappearing in the general direction of the labs; he would keep himself busy there for as long as it took, being no kind of back-up should Tony need him. Nice.

"What can I do for you?" Tony asked, picking himself up and straightening his clothes absentmindedly. There may or may not have been a red mark on his neck, although Bruce kept a lid on it nicely, not wanting to risk breaking the skin by accident. If there was a mark – it sure felt like it – Tony knew Pepper would notice. She always did; she was all too used to covering them up before Tony stepped in front of press cameras, even more so after he started wearing the armor.

Pepper looked at him a moment longer, knowing it would make him uneasy, then sighed and walked down to the bar. The upcoming discussion was beginning to remind him too much of when she broke up with him and he followed her, getting himself a drink as well.

"I was wondering what Rhodey wasn't telling me," Pepper mused dryly, stirring her drink, not looking at him.

"He didn't tell you?" Tony clarified.

She finally looked at him. "No, he didn't. I'm sure he was waiting for you to do it – as you should have." She sipped her drink. "Were you going to tell me?"

Tony swallowed a grimace and bit into a piece of lemon while trying to decide what to pour into his glass.

"Tony," Pepper repeated.

"Eventually," Tony managed. "I would have told you eventually."

She sighed again. "Knowing you, you could have been dead by then."

"I actually haven't made it a habit to _almost_ die once a week," Tony argued. "Not even once a month; it's not as pleasant as they advertise." He opted for straight whiskey to take the edge off but before he could throw back the shot, Pepper grabbed his hand, stopping the movement. Tony gave her a look. Why was she allowed to drink and he wasn't?

"Is it serious?" she asked.

"What?"

"You and him," she elaborated although she knew it was unnecessary should Tony choose to actually put his mind to it.

He stayed quiet. In his mind, it was the most serious thing he had ever done, other than being Iron Man; he couldn't afford mistakes with Bruce. He cared about him, and there was the other guy to consider. Hurting Bruce's feelings might not end well for him, even though he doubted it would ever go that far. Still, he could offer that as an explanation for those who didn't comprehend the iron will Bruce Banner had grown to use as a filter between himself and the rest of the world.

Pepper waited for his reply but she also knew when Tony wasn't going to offer her an answer. She sighed, looked at the table, at the shot of whiskey he wasn't allowed to have. "I know it's because of me, of the way it ended. I swear, Tony, I didn't mean for it to happen the way it did."

"I'm glad it did," Tony ground out. It hurt, thinking of that night. "You didn't ask for it. You didn't deserve all that came with dating a superhero. I want you to be happy." He looked at her, forcing her to look back, then grasped the hand holding his. "Virginia Potts, I'm happy for you, from the bottom of my heart. I wish you and Hogan all the happiness in the world."

Why Pepper gave him an untrusting look was wrong on so many levels. "Are you dying again?"

"What?" Tony blinked.

"The last time we had a conversation like this… it feels like it, anyway… you were trying to tell me you were dying. I think. You made me CEO."

"I don't think this resembles that discussion at all," Tony frowned. "And no, I'm not dying. I'm very much alive and attempting to stay that way for the foreseeable future."

Pepper didn't look entirely convinced but let go of him in order to take another sip of her drink. Tony took the opening to throw back the shot of whiskey before she could stop him again. "So you suddenly dating one of your fellow Avengers has nothing to do with us breaking up?" she continued after a while.

"Will it make you happy if I say it has everything to do with you?" Tony challenged. Her face froze. He sighed and felt like pulling his hair in frustration. "It isn't about you. Not like you would think. I'm lonely, he's lonely. We like each other. After the incident… we've grown closer. It's a natural progression, I think."

"You _think_," Pepper mused. "Are you certain of anything at all? Tony, listen to me," she snapped when he looked away, pursing his lips, hoping to tune her out before he would have to listen to her nagging. "You know what he can do. You designed weapons to take him down."

Tony's entire body seized at that comment. If felt like the arc reactor had just fallen out of his chest. He got that ugly feeling, the horrible realization that he had lived through a few times since Afghanistan – like when Obie told him the truth about dealing under the table and ordering the hit on him. "That was a _long_ time ago, and I didn't know what they were using that tech for! I didn't know Bruce…"

"That's not the point," Pepper pressed. "Even if you had known directly what they would be used for, you would have done it, because he is a monster. The body-count alone –"

"Stop," he snapped and she did because he never used that tone with her; filled with seething rage and cold fury, self-loathing keeping it all together. "His body-count is nothing compared to mine. He regrets each and every loss of life; he's isolated himself from the entire world in the past in order to keep from hurting anyone. It's something I could never do."

"You gave the world Iron Man," Pepper reminded him.

"You can't use that excuse with me," Tony retorted. "That's why you left me, remember? Because I threw myself out there, into the path of danger, in order to wipe away the legacy I no longer wanted people to remember."

"I never thought the world would be a better place without Iron Man. I just couldn't live with the constant fear of you being in that suit! You know I still love you, right? None of this changes that."

Tony pressed his teeth together as tight as he could, the pain in his jaw keeping him from acknowledging certain other aches.

Pepper pressed closer, the smell of her putting him right back to the time when this was still a daily thing – minus the arguments. Well, sometimes the arguments, too… "I just don't want you to get hurt. I'm certain Dr. Banner is a good man but you've never been smart when you're hurt, and I know you're hurting, Tony," she insisted, voice lower, more intimate; sinking right under his skin. Saying his name was like a slap in the face and she knew how to use that.

He blinked, looking away, eyes catching some of her hair, silky and smooth. He wanted to run his fingers through it but then remembered Bruce's gentle breaths against his skin at night, his hand resting on his chest, covering the glow of the arc.

"I know what I'm doing," he finally said, stepping back.

Pepper looked almost hurt, then nodded and dug into her bag. "I have things for you to take a look at. Send them to my office once you're done." She dropped them on the bar, knowing he would either pick them up eventually or she would have to make another visit to remind him.

"Do you want me to walk you down?" Tony asked, implying they were done talking about everything she could think of bringing up.

She nodded and they stepped over to the elevator together. The ride down was quiet. Tony focused on looking slightly away from her, to breathe in the smell of the elevator interior instead of her aroma.

The elevator came to a smooth stop after a life-time of waiting and a car was parked nearby. Happy stood outside it having a smoke, starting a bit when they stepped out. "Mr. Stark," he inclined his head.

Tony wasn't sure what to say or do. He hadn't seen Happy in a long time, but he looked the same. Better, maybe, and the smile he gave Pepper was new.

Pepper got into the car, which was kind of funny.

"You're still her chauffeur?" Tony asked.

Pepper gave him a poisonous look before the door was shut. Happy seemed determined to not let her answer.

"For the time being," he replied, then stood there for a moment, almost uncertain. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry –"

Tony waved him off. "May the best man win? Overrated. Take care of her," he added before stepping back to the elevator. "If you make her more miserable than I did, I won't be such a gentleman about it."

"Understood," Happy nodded as he walked around the car to the driver's seat.

The elevator doors closed between them and Tony leaned back with a heavy sigh.

He stopped on the R&D floors after checking out Bruce's current location. He was in one of their private labs, fiddling with some project but it didn't seem he was actually getting much done; he looked up when Tony entered, giving him a careful look. "Pepper left?"

"Yeah," Tony said simply as he walked over to him. He glanced at the read-outs on the screen, scrolled through them idly, his brain detached from what he was doing, hanging back for the last few minutes.

"Tony?" Bruce spoke up after a bit, grabbing his hand, pulling it away from the touch-screen.

Tony looked at him, blinking owlishly, determined not to cry; there was no reason for tears, none at all, and it wouldn't help the situation in the slightest. Instead he leaned towards Bruce who braced himself in his seat as he felt the familiar arms surround him.

It was awkward and not working so Bruce eventually stood up to properly hold him. Tony allowed it, leaning into the embrace of the other man, knowing he should apologize. He wasn't completely certain what to apologize for precisely, though, so it was better not to try. It was just another thing he wasn't particularly good at.

_to be continued…_


	8. Chapter 7: Handling

**Chapter 7: Handling**

* * *

After Pepper's visit Bruce could sense a change in Tony. The man didn't divulge any details of what they had talked about and Bruce was too polite to ask J.A.R.V.I.S. about it in case the AI would be more helpful. It was impossible to ignore the minute changes in behavior that drove Tony on afterwards, compiled mostly of a haunted, startled look and an obvious need to hang around Bruce – usually within touching distance – as if reassuring himself that their relationship was real.

He never said it out loud but Bruce got the feeling Pepper had questioned what was between them. The notion, surprisingly, raised the other guy's hackles a little and Bruce chose to meditate on it instead of trying to find a way to broach the subject with Tony.

When had their relationship become a sore spot for the monster inside him? Or was it merely the idea of someone coming between them, threatening the closeness Bruce had found with Tony? He had never thought that the Hulk would care for any of that, although the other guy clearly got along with Tony – at least when it came to protecting him and Iron Man.

Tony snapped out of it a few times, noticing the new pattern in his own behavior and backing away visibly, brooding in some quiet room of the tower, pointedly staying away from Bruce. Perhaps he was trying to make a statement that he was and would be dealing with this on his own, whatever it was. There was frustration in the air around him, perhaps even a whiff of fear although Bruce couldn't fathom why.

They still shared a bed, although Tony would more often than not disappear some time after lying down and Bruce would fetch him from one of the labs much later. One night Tony even fired some Iron Man weapons, almost blowing apart one of the underground spaces designed just for that; apparently his weapons of choice had a little more kick than the room had been designed for.

"You're making the entire building shake," Bruce complained as he came down, J.A.R.V.I.S. opening the last door for him that could have perhaps contained anything short of an atomic blast on the other side.

The armor turned to look at him, dust still in the air and a fire burning at the opposite end where the explosion had taken place. The ceiling hadn't caved in, though, and an automatic fire extinguishing system was already putting out the last of the flames. "How did you get in?" Iron Man asked. They were Tony's words, of course, but the voice and tempo were different; it was more pronounced tonight and Bruce could tell he was in a mood.

There were days when you could tell it was Tony in the suit, and on particularly bad days – like tonight – it was like being in the suit changed him into another being.

"Through the door," Bruce replied.

Iron Man cocked his head. Bruce guessed he was having a discussion with J.A.R.V.I.S. inside the suit and didn't bother to let him in on it. "Right," he decided then, popping up the faceplate. "J.A.R.V.I.S. shouldn't have let you in. Hazardous conditions and all that."

"Maybe he saw that you were done demolishing the room," Bruce raised an eyebrow. He knew the AI was more than capable of counting the odds of Bruce ending up in the line of fire if he was let inside.

"I'm testing weapons," Tony made sort of a shrugging motion which could go completely unnoticed with the suit on. Bruce, however, had watched him in it for so many hours that he could tell when it happened.

"No," Bruce gracefully disagreed, stepping closer. Pieces of rubble lay at his feet as he crossed the distance between them. "You're blowing stuff up."

"Which is part of weapons calibration," the other man insisted.

"I don't see any equipment here," Bruce shot down the façade. "And don't tell me the sensors of the suit are enough to record whatever needs recording, because that's bull. You need several separate sources to track and analyze reliable results. J.A.R.V.I.S. isn't one of them."

_"Although I am quite capable of such recordings,"_ the AI said in its own defense, _"tonight there was no request for me to partake in this test."_

Bruce gave Tony a pointed look.

It was impossible for Tony to slump in the suit, but Bruce was pretty sure he did that anyway. "Fine; I was blowing shit up. It's my property, I can damn well do what I want."

"Don't be a brat," he told him flatly. "Get out of the suit and back to bed."

"I'm not sleepy and this needs finishing."

"Are you planning to bring down the entire Tower? With me sleeping in one of the top floors? I thank you for that in advance."

Tony flushed. "I wasn't going to bring down the Tower."

"It sure didn't feel like that."

Perhaps the idea of putting Bruce in danger – or within danger of a Hulk-out – finally made Tony take off the suit and follow him up to their shared bedroom, which of course was Tony's bedroom since it had a bigger bed. Not that Bruce's bed was small by any usual measurements.

"Relax," Bruce ordered after they were done settling in.

Tony was sweaty, eyes flickering, jaw working. The restless energy was contained within the room, in their bed, and made it impossible for Bruce to even pretend he might be able to sleep with the other man beside him.

"Will you tell me what you and Pepper talked about?" he asked.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"It's bothering you and maybe talking would help," Bruce observed. "I promise I won't judge –"

"You want to hear about how I designed some of the weapons Ross used against you?" Tony's voice was filled with venom but it was worse that it was all turned against the man himself. Bruce guessed this was the first time he actually caught a live glimpse at how Tony had been after Afghanistan – around the time he first became Iron Man. Filled with new purpose which was fuelled not by repulsors and arc technology, but his own feelings of self-loathing and inadequacy.

A need to rise above his own actions and erase them from the memory of the living generations.

Bruce thought about that. He could say it didn't matter, that they hadn't known each other then, nor had Tony probably even known what those designs would be used for. None of that would put Tony's mind at ease, though. It was just scratching the surface of the guilt he had forced so deep down his own throat that no amount of retching would bring it back up. Something Bruce wasn't able to change in one night, and perhaps not in a lifetime.

He took another approach instead; what had Pepper said? What had her visit reminded Tony of that made him seem so unbalanced suddenly? Of course their break up was still a painful memory and Bruce's presence wasn't supposed to mend the pain or fill the crater it left behind. Whatever she had said, though…

Bruce tried to turn a fresh wave of anger some place else because he knew Pepper was still important to Tony and he didn't need to feed the other guy with unwanted ideas in case they took hold somewhere in the rage monster's psyche.

"You talked only about weapons used against me?" Bruce asked, wanting to get Tony talking because it was one of the best ways to unwind him. Safest, too, since it didn't include blowing things up.

Tony turned his head to look at him, his features highlighted by the shining circle in his chest. The shirt he wore was stretched thin over it and failed to mute the glow. "She was worried," he finally admitted. "She shouldn't be. She made you sound like some kind of… monster."

"Which I am, in a sense," Bruce reminded him.

The look that came over Tony's face would forever make his heart ache; the other man pushed himself up on one elbow, looking down at Bruce almost furiously. "You are _not_ a monster. Trust me, I know what a monster is and you don't qualify."

Bruce wondered what he meant by that; no one could use the m-word after they had seen the Hulk on his worst day – or even on an off-day – but Tony's troubled eyes clearly saw something worse than what Bruce or his greener half could ever do.

It broke his heart, just a little, that Tony could believe something like that – and believe it he did, that much was obvious. It was the conviction on his face, which wasn't something that was born overnight. It grew and festered, burning a memory in one's skull, embedded so deep that nothing else would compare for a very long time.

"Well, it's nice to not make the list in someone's head, for a change," Bruce mused.

Tony snorted and looked away at some dark corner of the room. After he had stared at it a while Bruce turned his head to see what it was Tony was trying to burn holes into with his eyes and saw a mirror on the far wall. In the darkness of the room the only thing that could actually be made out in the reflection was the arc reactor and its shine reflecting in Tony's eyes.

Bruce looked, wondering if he saw what Tony saw – if Tony was actually even looking at his distorted reflection – and then he realized that was the only thing Tony saw. "You're not a monster," Bruce said, turning back to look at the man, not the glow in the dark. "Tony, look at me."

Slowly, grudgingly, Tony lowered his eyes. They were dark although the arc gave them an almost manic glaze. Bruce reached out, touching his face, feeling the flinch but not backing down.

"You made weapons to protect," Bruce concluded. No doubt it was a phrase Tony had heard a hundred times since he became Iron Man and dropped out of the arms race. Every American knew that Stark Industries had had the most advanced, perhaps the most destructive weapons on the market, especially when Tony was in his prime; Bruce may not have had love for the weapons themselves, but the technology put into them showed up in several other fields, advancing so many other areas. Had Tony forgotten all about that? Was the body count, which wasn't his fault, the only thing he could remember of those years? Was that something Pepper's visit had made him think about?

Tony's eyes left his face again, back on the mirror. There was hard desperation in the dark gaze, the kind Bruce was all too familiar with when he looked at himself while listening to the news detailing havoc his latest transformation into the other guy had wreaked.

To see it on someone else's face – someone like Tony Stark, who was the successful version of himself in so many ways – was unacceptable and felt like someone had just kicked him in the gut.

He reached out, fingers unyielding as they grabbed Tony's jaw, pulling his face back down. He felt the silent protest but didn't yield to it, instead raising his head slightly, his lips meeting Tony's tense ones. He felt the quick breath on his upper lip, imagined the lashes fluttering at the sudden proximity of his face, but he didn't stop. Even when Tony tried to jerk back, which was unlike him, Bruce slid his hand to the back of his head and held him there, wondering if he would have to smother the fight out of him.

There was no changing Tony's basic mentality, though, and he didn't really have it in him to deny Bruce's sexually-laced attempts for closeness; his jaw relaxed, breaths easier, a small moan escaping him as Bruce's fingers dug into the hair and skin at the base of his neck. When Bruce opened his eyes, Tony's stared back at him in a bit of wonder and the hardness was gone for the time being.

"Banner," he finally muttered, their lips not an inch apart, Bruce's hand still in his hair, fingertips scratching deep, kneading the tension. He felt it as Tony swallowed, dulled by the spine and bone but still there. If he shifted his fingers he could follow his pulse, but there was no reason to count it.

No matter what his mood or the amount of tension in his body, Tony wouldn't turn into a rage monster.

"Lie down," Bruce ordered.

Tony didn't fight him. His eyes never left Bruce's face, waiting, almost dreading, but Bruce's voice was as tender beneath the determination as his actions were filled with love and care – and Tony knew that, deep down. Bruce wouldn't punish him, wouldn't hurt or shame him.

Once Tony was on his back, still restless but his attention on Bruce rather than the mirror, he knew there was no backing away now; there had been lines they hadn't crossed, that Bruce had kept taut and unyielding, but it would serve him well to push past them now.

Bruce maintained eye-contact while his hand took a bold path downwards, settling across Tony's stomach with zero hesitation. He had touched him there, had felt the skin, but now he went further and there was no way Tony wouldn't notice. The dark eyes stared at his face, jaw set, breaths shallow and as quiet as possible, as if Tony were trying to gauge his motives to guess what was happening. As Bruce's hand slid over the heat of his crotch, the lips opened slightly but Tony didn't speak.

He wanted to bow his head and kiss him again, to usher away that look of uncertain tension that was taking over Tony's features, but Bruce knew he would just distract himself and perhaps allow himself to pull away entirely, forgetting his true goal.

No; tonight he would cross the line he had been dreading for years. It didn't mean smashing through several walls and stripping every layer of his hesitation at once, but this would be the first stride leading to a whole new level of intimacy with a man he trusted despite Tony's machinations and attempts to test his self-control.

His fingers traced the flesh through the underwear. The pulse grew stronger, leading blood towards a new priority, increasing the arousal Tony had been keeping a lid on until now. A breath escaped them both, almost simultaneously, then Bruce told himself there was only so much bashfulness he was allowed and he moved his fingers up, tugging at the top of the tight boxers and slid the material down. Tony inched up his hips to help him, face still wary as if he were suddenly the one suspicious of the other person's motives.

It was nice to turn the tables, Bruce thought; he had always been the one to second guess Tony's attempts to bring them closer. They had been circling each other, rotating closer and more firmly together, and things were just beginning to fit the right way. Bruce was finally almost comfortable in his own skin after such a long time and he had a feeling Tony felt the same although he would never admit being uncomfortable in whatever scenario someone wanted to throw at him.

Touching bare skin was so much more intimate than any caresses through clothing, no matter how thin or revealing. Until now they had taken care of their needs in private – which of course had made their make-out sessions feel a bit pointless. As long as they weren't ready, though…

Bruce was ready, or that's what he told himself – and that was all that mattered in the end, of course. Brain could be distracted, unpleasantness tricked into acceptance and all that truly held him back was his own fear.

He wasn't afraid now. Not when his fingers touched Tony, finally bringing a real sound from him, and it wasn't for show or mocking him; this was not a game, there was no way to cheat and they both knew that. Their eyes locked, making it almost impossibly intense. Bruce could feel Tony's pulse in his grip, saw his chest heave, careful and measured breaths holding Tony's concentration together.

At that moment he was glad for Tony's practice when it came to bed-partners; they could finish like this, with no theatrics, and it would be comfortable and safe. Tony would keep looking at him, layers that still stood between them stripped away until he was laid bare and arched to his touch. A flicker in his eyes, a twitch of his lips, and Bruce shifted his grip, pushing closer to the other man, seeking Tony's lips with his own as he felt wetness on his fingers, Tony's hips rising up to seek more friction until he was done and one of his hands touched Bruce's, moving his fingers away from the sensitive flesh.

They broke the kiss and lay there, just a tad awkward, Bruce's hand hovering between them, sticky as semen cooled on it. Tony chuckled then yawned and Bruce got up to wash his hands. By the time he came back, Tony's eyes were falling shut and they didn't speak as they settled down on the bed, closer than most nights. Bruce allowed one of his hands to settle on Tony's naked flank as he drifted off, cherishing the heat of his skin and the firm closeness of the body next to his own.

* * *

Tony was the first to wake up. Not unheard of, seeing as he had made it a habit to get out of bed before its other occupant for years. Usually he would skip sleep altogether or nap in his workshop, but once he fell into a habit of sharing a bed with Bruce, it was easier to just sleep there instead.

It had long since stopped having anything to do with being rude or potentially hurting the other man's feelings.

He turned his head to look at Bruce's sleeping face, relaxed and serene. Not poetically innocent, but just… not so guarded. Tony glanced at the clock, itching to get up and start running a few bits of new programming for the suit, or a new weapon for the War Machine armor that would make Justin Hammer weep, but Bruce was still sleeping and he didn't want to bail on him – not after last night.

Tony knew he had been in a mood ever since Pepper visited. He had thought he might be able to explain things to Bruce, but when it came down to it, admitting his biggest failures as a human being was hard. He didn't want the other man to know. He didn't want anyone to know. Tony Stark didn't give a shit about his past but focused instead on the future. He was Iron Man – it didn't matter that he had been a Merchant of Death for years.

Only it did.

It did matter that he had wasted so much of his life.

It mattered that he had designed weapons that were used against the man sleeping beside him. A man who was so much better a person than he could ever be, even with all his faults; Bruce wasn't perfect, of course not, but he had found some kind of inner peace while traveling the world – the kind Tony would probably be forever too impatient to achieve.

"You're going to fry your brain if you keep abusing it like that at this hour," Bruce's voice interrupted him.

Tony blinked. "You think so?"

"Yeah. I know the expression by now." Bruce stretched slightly and kept watching him.

Tony bit the corner of his lower lip briefly, twitched his nose then settled down. They looked at each other for a moment and it reminded him of last night. How could it not? It made his stomach feel as if he had swallowed a hundred butterflies, his chest tight around the arc reactor.

"Are you thinking about it?" Bruce asked almost in a whisper.

"Is it so obvious?" Tony asked back. He had enough self-control to not have a raging case of morning wood right now, but that could be arranged should Bruce feel like repeating what he had done just a few hours ago.

Bruce smiled. "You stopped thinking of the depressing stuff. Can't be sure what you replaced it with, though."

"Rest assured, you're at the very top of my list," Tony smiled and leaned forward, claiming a kiss from those clever lips. "And for the record – J.A.R.V.I.S., are you getting this? – you're welcome to repeat such handling of my private parts at any time you want. The only thing I demand in return is to be allowed to return the favor." He paused, searching Bruce's eyes again. "When you're ready," he added.

"I will be," Bruce promised him with another kiss. "Soon."

_"Will that be all, sir?"_ the AI asked.

"Not by a long shot," Tony grinned.

_to be continued…_


	9. Chapter 8: Reality Check 1 2

**Chapter 8: Reality Check 1.2**

* * *

Sometimes Tony wondered about what a horrible person he was, seeing as J.A.R.V.I.S. was in many ways adopting the traits of his creator; Bruce had his tongue pretty far into Tony's mouth, probably aiming to climb all the way down his throat if they could make that physically possible, when the AI decided to make an announcement:

_"Sir, Mr. Rhodes is on the line."_

Tony groaned and pulled back, licking his lips. Bruce looked too chastised for it to be fair in this universe and Tony attempted to convey in one singular look that _they weren't done_. "What does he want?" he snapped at J.A.R.V.I.S.

There was a slight pause, indicating that J.A.R.V.I.S. was actually asking Rhodey on Tony's behalf instead of just connecting the call. Perhaps he wasn't too far gone after all… _"He is enquiring after his suit and your progress with it,"_ the smooth voice returned, sounding just as unenthusiastic as ever.

"Tell him he can pick it up tomorrow," Tony informed the AI then turned back to Bruce. "Now, where were we?"

"Are you sure you don't want to talk to Rhodes? I can step out for a moment," Bruce offered.

Tony narrowed his eyes. "Either you were not enjoying our previous activities – which I might take as a personal insult – or you don't like Rhodey."

Bruce surveyed something behind Tony that certainly didn't warrant that much of his attention. "You know I like the things we do," the scientist offered then, as a token of peace.

The Cheshire Cat could have taken notes from Tony's responding grin. "You know, we can totally focus on that any time you want –"

"Not now," Bruce blew him off, tender and patient as well as hard and unforgiving.

Tony tried to reel in his anticipation before the big fish called 'Disappointment' got a bite out of it. They had gotten as far as Bruce jacking him off, which was fantastic in the scale of their relationship, but Tony could admit he sometimes got a little frustrated when they didn't move on from that. However, 'not now' was not the equivalent of 'not ever', and he knew which he preferred.

"So, Rhodey it is, then," he returned to the topic at hand and could see Bruce relax a bit more when he didn't press for further intimacy. "There's nothing for you to be concerned about with Rhodey's visit. I made it very clear to him that you're off limits on every imaginable level he and his military buddies can come up with. If he has a problem with that, he can take it up with me."

Bruce's face darkened, just slightly. "You don't need to protect me."

"Of course I do," Tony argued. "A) you are my friend, teammate and boyfriend. B) Rhodey is also my friend so he's my responsibility. C) I have an uneasy relationship with some branches of the military and especially one General Ross, so I think we're pretty much on the same page as to why you would possibly need protection from me."

Bruce didn't laugh or smile. "How come it doesn't surprise me you're on Ross' shit list?"

Tony grinned. "I may have done a little… consulting to get there. Plus Iron Man isn't on his Christmas card list." He straightened his face after that, though. "Rhodey isn't someone you have to be concerned about. He might talk big but he won't make a move on you because that means going through me first. He isn't that kind of guy."

"I hope you're right," Bruce said, standing up. He didn't appear nervous or worried but it didn't mean those feelings weren't crossing his genius mind. "I'll let you work on War Machine; I know you're not done with all the armor repairs yet. We'll continue this later." And with that he leaned in, touching Tony's cheek as he kissed him once more, with a little bit of tongue to make it dirty – and Tony sure did love _dirty_.

He smiled at the other man as he left the lab then rolled his chair around and tapped a monitor to pull up the War Machine specs. "Okay, boys, time to get to work," he announced to the room at large and moved over to the rising platform that held Rhodey's suit.

* * *

James Rhodes entered the lab after Tony had moved on to tinker with his own suit. Tony had left the room long enough to get some shut-eye but it happened to be during the day so Bruce refused to join him; apparently the man wasn't going to stay up at convenient hours with him just so that they could sleep at the same time.

As it was, Tony had been up for a couple hours and his mind was full of things that needed to be done before he got called out next on a mission of some kind, whether it was Iron Man flying solo or alongside the Avengers. J.A.R.V.I.S. let Rhodey in without a fuss and lifted the War Machine armor up for inspection.

Tony allowed a minimal portion of his brain to focus on the fact that Rhodey was circling his armor, as if to seek out faults in what Tony had done to it. Mostly his brain was still recalibrating an external energy output that could be used as some kind of force-field should he be able to stabilize it – and not fry his arc reactor once it took a hit.

"The armor seems fine," Rhodey commented.

"Of course it does; I repaired it," Tony snorted, rolling his eyes away from the screen in front of him, sweeping the calculations off to the side, knowing J.A.R.V.I.S. would save and store them for him. "Do you want to take it out for a test drive?" he asked as if he were a car salesman.

Well, knowing Rhodey, he might just ask for a test flight and then come back with a new list of things he wanted to change – mostly all the upgrades Tony had slipped into the armor.

"Not right now," Rhodey responded instead, stepped out from behind the bulky metallic suit and walked closer to Tony. It was a bad sign even before he started talking: "Pepper's been worried."

"About what?" Tony asked, already trying to wheel himself further from his friend trying to make it not look like an escape attempt.

"About you."

"I'm fine, she should know that."

"Tony," Rhodey snapped, making him stop moving. "I don't want to have to talk to you about this but Pepper's concerned – which means I should be concerned."

"Let's move back to the source of her concern because I think I failed to catch that," Tony shifted his chair an inch further from the other man.

"Banner," Rhodey responded without missing a beat. His brown eyes narrowed just slightly as if trying to pin Tony in place. "She's worried about your relationship with Banner. Plain enough for you?"

"Yeah," Tony said, eyes already moving to the side, trying to find a way out. "We're doing fine."

"That's not what is bothering her."

Something between anger and annoyance sliced through him, making him defensive – and that was never a good place to be. "If she's so worried she can come and talk to me about it, not send you to do her dirty work."

"You know it isn't like that," Rhodey insisted. "If she's worried, I'm worried."

"I heard your concerns the first time," he snapped. "If that's all you have to say –"

"He's dangerous and you're not with him for the right reasons," Rhodey blurted out despite the warning in Tony's words.

"Right reasons? Do you think I'm with him out of convenience, because he happens to be there? That I went through the trouble of winning his trust just because he happens to be the _hardest_ member of this team to get into a relationship?" Well, not that he knew that for certain but Tony had figured that Bruce had the most reason _not_ to be in a relationship, due to his green problem. "Has it occurred to either you or Pepper that I might actually be happy with Bruce?" he finally asked, voice hard as steel, cutting anything it touched.

Rhodey's face flinched, just a little. They had been down the road of mistrust before, before Rhodey took his armor. It seemed neither of them had learned a lesson from that. "Are you sure you're not just trying to prove something – to yourself, or the world? I'm sure Banner's difficult to manage and it's amazing you've got this far but you must see the dangers involved. Or maybe the dangers are all that you see; you've never been shy about doing what most sane people wouldn't even attempt."

"Being with him isn't a dare of some kind," Tony stood up from the chair, body poised for a fight. Was he going to end up smashing Rhodey through the Mansion before this was over? Their fight in Malibu played through his brain, filtered by a concentration of alcohol in his blood that had been present at the time. "In fact, dating him is probably the safest thing I've done in my life, seeing as the Hulk is so fond of protecting me."

"When he isn't smashing in your chest!"

"That only happened once!"

"Once should have killed you, but you got lucky. Dating a guy who's capable of that – who has already done that – isn't my idea of safety," Rhodey insisted. "How is it going to work, anyway? The piece of his file that I managed to dig out suggested some serious control issues, not to mention potentially hazardous levels of gamma radiation."

"We're working on those," Tony replied, jaw so clenched he was certain something was going to be dislocated soon. "I know what I'm involved in – who I'm involved with. Nothing you can think of is going to scare me off because I've already thought about it, or Bruce has told me about it a dozen times in an attempt to make me back off."

Rhodey sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. "You make it sound like he's not into the idea of you two… you know."

"Oh, he isn't," Tony said, feeling like flipping him off. "But we're working towards it, thanks so much for asking." It looked like Rhodey didn't want to hear more about that subject. Maybe describing all the ways Tony wanted to get naked with Dr. Banner would drive him out of his lab and make him never bring it up again.

"You haven't had sex yet?" Rhodey finally asked, looking like he wished he could avoid it but was made to ask by a superior – that superior possibly being Pepper.

"Not in the biblical sense."

The frown on Rhodey's face seemed to have a life of its own. "Seriously?"

Tony took a moment to wonder why that was such a shock to one of his oldest friends – then it clicked. "It hasn't been the right time yet," he shrugged, the tension disappearing slightly.

This last revelation seemed to throw Rhodey off his game; it wasn't like Tony to drag out having sex with a person he liked, the whole world knew that much about Tony Stark. Pepper had perhaps been the only one with whom it took time and once they got into a relationship, sex hadn't exactly been an issue. With Bruce, though, it had to be a new record on any level he could think of – and he still thought it was worth the wait.

"Is it because you can't, or because you won't?" Rhodey asked next, tentatively, as if still figuring out the answer himself.

"Can't," Tony admitted. "We may be eager to do crazy science together but some things require finesse."

Rhodey nodded slowly. "I still don't like it."

"You don't have to," Tony noted, sharpness returning to his tone. "There are two people involved in this relationship and you're not one of them."

"I wonder why you couldn't have found this kind of focus and determination in any of your prior relationships. Hell, you didn't even call them relationships, as if you were allergic to the very word and all its implications."

Tony knew where Rhodey got that impression from; he wasn't deluded enough to think he was a model of any kind of healthy lifestyle when it came to interactions with other people. Maybe that was why Pepper left him… Had Tony not been truly with her, in body and mind? He thought he had, that they'd had a connection, but… Iron Man always came first, she was right about that.

He and Bruce, however, were together because of Iron Man and all aspects of Tony's life met Bruce's.

While he pondered if Rhodey would see his point if he told him that, there was a tap from the side wall and a lab door opened, letting in Captain Rogers; he was wearing his leather jacked and slacks but carrying his shield which meant he may have been visiting the Helicarrier or something equally work-related that didn't require him to put on the entire uniform.

"Am I disturbing you?" Rogers asked. "J.A.R.V.I.S. let me in."

Tony caught Rhodey staring at Rogers and he couldn't help rolling his eyes. "Rhodey, meet Steve Rogers, our resident Capsicle," he said as he introduced Cap.

The man in question didn't really have time to narrow his eyes at him before Rhodey had stepped over, hand first, admiration written all over his face. "Captain Rogers, this is an honor," he stated as they shook hands. "I'm Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes."

"I didn't think Tony had friends in the military," Rogers replied, although kindly.

"I used to be a liaison for Stark Industries. Lately we've mostly bonded over armor," Rhodey shrugged.

Recognition dawned on Rogers' face. "You're War Machine."

"Yes, sir," Rhodey nodded.

"You don't need to call him that," Tony couldn't stop himself.

Rhodey gave him a dirty look as if Tony had just ruined his greatest wet dream in years. "I didn't ask for your input."

"If gushing over him is all you're going to do, please take it somewhere else," Tony waved him off, finding his seat again and rolling the chair across the smooth floor. "I have work to do."

"There's dinner upstairs," Rogers offered.

"I'm feeling a bit hungry," Rhodey grinned – Tony could almost see his teeth flashing from the reflection on his armor before the two men left, leaving him alone with the armor schematics and slightly betrayed feelings.

It had nothing to do with the camaraderie between the two men because he had always known they would bond in no time – especially because everyone in the military seemed to have a secret fanboy boner for Captain America.

No; what left him uneasy was the fact that the two people who knew him best didn't trust in his choice to start a relationship with Bruce. They had always wanted him to go steady or to calm down at least, and now that he had they kept bombarding him with distrust, advice and accusations about the state of his sanity.

Tony re-opened his latest project and tried to dismiss Pepper and Rhodey's voices as he was used to doing over the years – only it worked just as poorly as it always had, mostly because over time, he had learned to trust them and value their points of view.

And here he had been thinking that overcoming Bruce's green issues would be the biggest stepping stone in their relationship…

_to be continued…_


	10. Chapter 9: Pointy Things

**Author's note:** I found that I actually had to tone things down a bit to keep within the main rating (and I still could be slipping on the side of explicit)… Avengers is evidently slipping porn back into my brain. Sexy(ish) times lie ahead!

* * *

**Chapter 9: Pointy Things**

* * *

**Avengers Mansion  
Manhattan, New York, NY, USA**

Bruce entered the workshop some time after Rhodey and Rogers took their leave. Tony hadn't really paid attention to how long it had been and while he knew J.A.R.V.I.S. could have told him with the accuracy of a hundredth of a second, he didn't bother asking.

"There's a weird scene going on upstairs," Bruce commented as he stopped beside Tony's current location.

"Yeah?" Tony replied absently.

"I think your friend Rhodes is… He and Steve seem to get along."

"Bonding over war stories; I'm sure they have a secret handshake or something." He lifted the small welding machine to see if the seam was up to snuff then raised his eyes towards Bruce. "Did you need something?"

The other man just stared at him for a moment, as if trying to get him to read his mind. When that didn't work he had to resort to speaking: "Did you and Rhodes argue?"

Tony's first instinct was to deny everything but when he thought about it, what was he going to win by doing that? Especially when the topic of their argument was right in front of him, more or less. "Maybe," he finally admitted.

"About?" Bruce pushed although it sounded like he had an idea of his own.

"It doesn't matter," Tony shrugged and switched off the welding machine, unable to focus on his work now that Bruce had brought it up again.

"If it's about me, I think it does matter," Bruce pointed out.

Tony gave him a hard look. "It's between me and him – me and Pepper. There's no reason to go on the warpath –"

"Who said anything about a warpath?"

"Don't play cute with me," Tony snapped.

Bruce gave him another one of those long, infinitely patient looks yet it didn't last as long as usual. He reached up towards his face, only to realize he wasn't wearing his glasses and couldn't take them off to fiddle with them. His fingers moved through the side of his hair instead before settling at the level of his stomach, doing that twisty-thing with both his hands. "What's their problem?" he asked again.

Tony felt compelled to tell him, for whatever reason, although he knew it was a better idea not to. They were in a good place; there was no reason to ruin it. On the other hand there was a certain level of honesty between them and Tony didn't want to act like he was holding things back; Bruce had enough trust issues with people.

"They think I'm making a mistake being in a relationship with you."

"I agree," Bruce noted.

"I know, and I told Rhodey just that," Tony frowned unhappily, annoyed that Bruce could still say shit like that with a straight face; he'd thought they had moved beyond that, somewhere around the time Bruce jerked him off, but apparently not. It bothered him more and more the longer the silence stretched between them and eventually he couldn't contain it anymore: "What do you mean, you agree?" he snapped. "We've been at this for months. We've talked about things. We've taken it easy. We've worked around a dozen issues and not the least impressive of them being my gigantic need to have actual sex with you."

Bruce raised an eyebrow at that.

"What, as if you don't know? We can go upstairs right now and ask Rhodey about how long my dry streaks usually last. I used to measure it in hours, just so you know. I think I've been very good at handling this –"

"You have," Bruce replied, calm and caring, totally throwing him off. Tony hated that Bruce could do it so easily when he was in the middle of a rant. "No one is disagreeing with that," he went on, taking a step closer to Tony. "You've been very patient and a complete gentleman."

"Now you're just making fun of me," Tony bristled a little. "The things I've been doing to you with my mouth alone surpass any and every definition of gentleman-like behavior."

A slight smile passed over Bruce's face. It was his dirty smile; not like Tony's own, but dirty for him. "I've been wondering if there's something else you might want to do with that mouth of yours."

Tony stopped breathing for a moment, analyzing the words. Yes, Bruce was coming onto him; check that. Was he suggesting what he thought he was suggesting – which hadn't been on the table prior to this moment? "J.A.R.V.I.S.," he asked, "would you care to repeat what Dr. Banner said about seven seconds ago?"

_"Dr. Banner stated he's been wondering whether there is something else you might want to do with your mouth, sir,"_ the AI responded without missing a beat.

Bruce looked fairly amused by that but fought against commenting on it before Tony had worked it out. Well, that's what Tony hoped it was, and not being totally turned off by his broaching the subject.

"Okay," Tony straightened in his chair. "Did you just ask me to –?"

"Blow me," Bruce finished the sentence for him.

Tony swallowed. Yes, he had done it before but no, _they_ hadn't done it before. Bruce had jerked him off – which was a total understatement in describing that fantastically mind-blowing moment – but there hadn't been any mouth-on-dick action, nor had Bruce suggested he was ready for it, especially if he was going to be on the receiving end of it.

"You could say something," Bruce suggested next.

"My brain just froze. Overloaded. It's rebooting," Tony managed. "Where is this coming from?" he asked then, suspicious all of a sudden. "This doesn't have anything to do with my arguments with certain people, right? Because I might feel a little… no, a lot hurt by that. Well, not _hurt_, but uncertain whether we would be doing it for the right reasons – not that I'm saying we wouldn't do it even if it was for the wrong reasons, and –"

He stopped as Bruce moved the rest of the way to him and touched his chin, gentle as ever, yet signaling that Tony was done talking. "I want us to do it because… well, we don't have to, if you're not okay with it. We haven't exactly talked about preferences."

"Oh, don't worry about that," Tony rushed to say. "That's well within all my preferences, desires and wet dreams. Did I mention fantasies?"

Bruce gave him that amused look he had whenever he was wondering whether Tony just came up with stuff on the fly – which he totally did. "Shall we go to the bedroom, then? I don't think I want to try it here, seeing as Rhodes still needs to pick up his armor."

"Got it," Tony agreed, shifting his chair back slightly so that he could stand. All the while Bruce kept that hand on his face, maintaining eye-contact. "J," Tony called out, "please make sure Mr. Rhodes' armor is ready to go whenever he feels the need to leave. Do assist him in anything he needs but please, don't pester me about it; I have better things to do in the foreseeable future."

_"Of course, sir,"_ J.A.R.V.I.S. replied.

They took the back stairs up to Bruce's room. While they usually slept in the same bed and more often than not in Tony's room, Bruce's was more likely to go undisturbed, seeing as bothering a man with rage monster issues was something no one in the mansion wanted to do. Which meant they could go perfectly uninterrupted for as long as they wanted.

Considering how hard he already was, anticipating this, Tony wasn't sure how long it would actually take.

Bruce seemed to lose some of his confidence once the door was closed. He eyed the bed with a hint of uncertainty, taking long, deep breaths.

"We don't need to do this," Tony told him, seating himself on the edge of the bed. "Not now, anyway, if you don't feel you're up to it." He tried to hide the nasty bite of disappointment, telling himself once again that they had to do this at Bruce's pace or they wouldn't be doing it at all.

It was worth the wait.

Tony felt like correcting himself. 'Worth the wait' was such a cliché; sex was sex, there wasn't much to it that differed from one person to the next. Sure, some people were better at it, some were prettier to look at – and then came the area that Tony hadn't explored all that much: people who mattered. Bruce mattered to him, and thus the idea of being intimate with him mattered, too. Sometimes he choked up thinking about it, how a simple kiss made his mind work over-time, wanting to drown in its significance. Sure, it was still just a kiss, but…

He had sometimes felt the same with Pepper. Maybe it was the long wait, the build-up, and the eventual downfall he probably anticipated although he didn't want to acknowledge it.

With Bruce it was similar yet different; as they tried to find ways to overcome Bruce's fears and very real restrictions, it left them open to what Tony called 'feelings'. He refused to call it by another name – a name some people threw around like freebies at a promotional event – but he was aware that sitting here, waiting for Bruce to center himself and either give him the green light or call it off, it wasn't just the sex he was looking forward to, and it wasn't the possible lack of it that gnawed at him.

Bruce took another deep breath and then started to undo his shirt. "I want to do this," he stated, wiping Tony's mind clean of anything he had previously been contemplating.

"There's nothing to be nervous about," Tony reassured him but didn't move to take off his own clothes. Bruce would tell him how he wanted to do this. If it was just a blow-job, Tony didn't need to get naked for it.

Bruce let out a laugh that betrayed his nerves. "No? I can think of a few things."

"Maybe you should talk me through them, then," Tony offered, voice calmer than he felt. He toed off his shoes and pulled his legs up, sitting cross-legged on the edge of the bed, trying to recall some of those breathing exercises Bruce had shown him; he may have done this before but he hadn't done it with Bruce, and that set it apart from anything and everything he had ever experienced. A new territory to map; a new experiment to undertake – and yet there was no science in this, no equation to follow other than the two of them and the complicated mechanics of their bodies and minds.

Bruce had shed his shirt while Tony let his mind wander. "I've been avoiding this for so long," he started talking, forcing Tony's mind to follow, to listen, to pay attention even when the scientist started undoing his pants. "The fear of another episode… of another uncontrollable rampage triggered by an emotional high… I decided I could go without it. I could isolate myself and hope for the best. But then you happened," he said, allowing his pants to fall down his legs, leaving him standing there with his underwear, undershirt and pants bunched up at his ankles along with his socks. Not the sexiest thing Tony had had the pleasure of seeing, yet he didn't feel cheated or disappointed looking at Bruce.

Tony dragged his eyes up. "I've been known to do that… The Stark Experience. Maybe I should build a theme-park with that name?" He grinned, but it didn't last; not with Bruce looking at him, deadly serious, allowing the joke to slide by because that was how Tony played Seriously Serious Moments; he tried not to show how much of an impact they had on him.

"You happened," Bruce went on as if Tony hadn't spoken at all. "The first battle, living together, talking me into staying – and then I almost killed you." Bruce stopped moving, stopped breathing, that haunted look passing his face.

Why he had to remind himself of that _now_ was beyond Tony's understanding.

"You got under my skin," Bruce went on finally, stepping out of his pant legs, standing there almost awkwardly. He wasn't hard yet, Tony could tell, and his own arousal had dissipated a while ago, waiting for a cue to return. "I have no idea… but I've begun to think I let you in there; that I wanted you to be there. And that's… that's why we should be doing this, or trying, but I'm still concerned it's too soon – that I'm not in control and that this will end up with half the mansion in pieces and you rushing out to put on the armor."

"It won't," Tony reassured him. "You've got a lid on it and the big guy knows me." Well, whether the Hulk would like him as much when he came out in the middle of sex, thinking he was in danger, was another thing entirely. He knew he could have told Bruce he trusted him – trusted both of them – but he had gone down that road before and it never got him more than a sad look and a shake of Bruce's head. Tony had learned his lesson from all those mistakes: "You can trust me," he said instead.

It wasn't a magic word to conjure rainbows and small singing animals, but it was what Bruce needed to hear. Tony wasn't sure how he hadn't thought of it in the beginning, thinking that Bruce needed to know Tony had faith in him instead. As it turned out, it seemed more important that Bruce had faith in Tony.

Bruce's hands were shaking as they came up to Tony's shoulders, then the right one continued up his neck and to his hair, in a caress seeking confirmation. The pressure that came after was almost nonexistent but Tony went with it, feeling it, leaning forward. The other man was standing right in front of him so he didn't feel like he might fall off the bed when he leaned too far out. Bruce was _right there_ and Tony kissed his stomach, innocent enough, smelling him, body hair teasing his nose. He felt the inhales and exhales, making himself wait, eyes closed, mustering every last cell of patience in his body.

If he blew this, there was no guarantee he could ever put it back together again.

"Tony," Bruce murmured, the hand in his hair shifting.

"Either you say it – tell me what to do – or I'll take the reins," Tony mused, leaning back slightly, looking up at the other man.

Bruce nodded slowly. "Maybe I should lie down."

"Always a good plan," Tony agreed, scooting over.

Bruce followed him after removing his undershirt, hesitation making him look every bit like an awkward science nerd at a sleepover with half a dozen hot girls who were planning on treating him like a big teddy bear. Well, not that Tony knew what that was like first hand – he had just been forced to watch a few silly teenage movies – and he wasn't going to treat Bruce like anything other than what he was; a brilliant man who had to hold back so much, and who had gotten into the habit of holding back everything for fear of losing control. He could afford to let go a little, in Tony's opinion, without the fear of the other guy tearing down the walls.

Despite how awkward it all was, Tony noticed to his satisfaction that Bruce was getting a little hard and it was criminal he was still wearing so many clothes. "Can I touch?" he asked, which was perhaps the clumsiest and the most considerate thing he had ever said in bed in his entire life.

Bruce licked his lips and nodded, settling down, making no move to take off his underwear. It was the last barrier between success and failure and perhaps the scientist wasn't yet convinced which one this was going to be. As much as he wanted it – enough to come fetch Tony from the workshop – there was still room for mistakes.

He slid his hand over the slight bulge in his boxers, feeling the heat, the pulse, and wondered if he could monitor Bruce through that. Perhaps not the most reliable fail-safe… Bruce was lying very still, staring at the ceiling and Tony wondered if this was really that hard for him. Being anxious about the whole thing couldn't help, however, so he leaned forward and kissed the other man's stomach again, all the way up his chest – a chest that wasn't a scarred mess with an arc reactor stuck in the middle. While he did that, his hand grew firmer and surer, seeing as they had come to the bedroom with a goal and he was nothing if not determined to reach it.

Bruce's eyelashes fluttered and he raised his head, looking down at Tony, a mixed expression on his face.

"Too much?" Tony asked.

"Not yet," Bruce replied, licking his lips again. "Kiss me."

Tony smiled and moved up to comply. Their lips knew the familiar dance. Bruce's mouth tasted clean and from experience Tony knew the man had probably spent half an hour in the bathroom before fetching him, checking that he didn't have cracked lips or sores on the inside of his mouth that might lead to an unwanted blood molecule to pass between them. Personally Tony didn't see a danger in something so insignificant but if it gave Bruce the guts to ask Tony to blow him, he didn't mind.

After all, these were building blocks towards the main act.

Tony's hand picked up the pace a little, fingers tracing the ridges through the clothing. Bruce's chest heaved and one of his hands pushed up Tony's back to his neck, then to his hair, while the other wandered down. Tony fully expected him to ask for a break, to bring himself down so they could work their way up again, but to his shock Bruce tugged his flesh out of his boxers through the flap on the front, presenting himself to Tony's fingers.

It was getting very real very fast.

"Condom," Bruce ordered and Tony found a box conveniently placed in the bedside drawer. He reached out, inspecting the label, noticing that Bruce had probably gone to some trouble to find these; they were extra thick and durable, nothing he had ever seen before, definitely not something an average man was interested in wearing. Tony, of course, knew it had to do with Bruce's fear of the gamma radiation and they had agreed on precautions should they ever get this far.

And here they were.

Bruce was holding himself as Tony opened one of the packets and then had a brief struggle trying to roll the latex over him. Bruce's hand fell away when it was safely in place and Tony took over, stroking, not teasing but not pushing either. However, it didn't take long before his self-control began to tremble at the seams. "Ready for step two?" he asked.

The other man hesitated, looking at the ceiling again. Tony was tempted to look and see if there was some kind of picture taped there like at a dentist's office. "Okay," Bruce finally gave him the go-ahead, "but go slow, please," he amended in the next breath.

Tony wondered if they understood 'slow' in a similar fashion as he brought his mouth down to Bruce's member, reminding himself that the condom would probably cancel out a lot of the sensations.

Apparently not; Bruce's entire body jumped and he was scooting up the bed so fast he almost kneed Tony in the face. Tony sat up, watching him, but Bruce didn't seem green; just a little wild.

"What was that?!" Bruce demanded.

"Well, if we comprehend the term 'blow-job' the same way, it includes my mouth on your dick," Tony defended himself.

Bruce heaved in mighty breaths of air. "You could have… eased into it."

"Give me a map next time," Tony muttered, looking to the side.

He heard Bruce sigh, or maybe it was a very long, measured exhale. "Alright. I'm sorry. Maybe next time don't go straight for the trigger, okay? Especially if you're going to… pull. Fuck," he finished, sounding rough and shaken.

Tony looked at him again, taking a few breaths of his own, trying to remind himself that it had been a while for the other man and maybe he was just… "Are you sensitive?" Tony asked.

"What?" Bruce frowned.

"Some people are more… you know, some people can take a touch while others can't, so maybe it doesn't take much to get you all jumpy."

"I've been shot, stabbed and pricked with a few dozen different kinds of darts and needles," Bruce noted. "I would assume I'm pretty thick-skinned by now."

"But those all lead to the other guy coming out. They're painful. I'm talking about the non-painful stuff. Just because I handled your… pointy thing with a little more intensity than you've been used to for the past few years, I don't think it warranted you almost kicking me in the head."

Bruce managed to look bashful, then smiled. "Pointy thing?"

Tony grinned back at him. "So, shall we proceed?"

Bruce looked at him, eyes still wary but he eventually nodded and unfolded himself a little, sitting against the headboard. Tony moved over to him, exchanging a kiss with him before handling his flesh again, bringing it back to attention, then moved a bit further down to trace his lips over the latex-covered flesh. This time he went easy, tracing the sides, little licks and pushes and either Bruce got excited really easily or this was really pushing the threshold because he kept trembling a little, breathing in an even rhythm, seeming quite tense.

Ever so often he asked Tony to stop, twice before Tony finally managed to coax him into some real oral action. Bruce came a bit unglued and Tony pulled back again, anticipating that he would be told to anyway. "Hey, big guy, come on; you can do this. It's supposed to feel like going over the edge, you remember that, right?"

Bruce nodded slowly, beads of sweat on his forehead.

"If you start to go green – and I mean actual skin color and not just the sensation – tell me to back off. If not, we're riding this one to the end." He didn't mean to sound bossy, to tell Bruce what to do, but he felt like his lover lacked the courage to take the final leap of faith.

When no verbal disagreement met his demands, Tony moved back down, placing his mouth on his flesh, almost used to the taste by now which wasn't anything like the rest of Bruce, yet he knew discarding the condom wasn't exactly an option. Perhaps they could work on something thin and durable, which might actually pass through the scent and taste but now anything else…

Thinking of that was a distraction right now, though, regardless of how sexy the idea of working on something like that was, and he slid further down, keeping it light then increasing the suction and the pressure of his tongue until Bruce's hips shot up. Tony moved along with him as best he could, seeing Bruce's hand flex on the bed beside him, no doubt wanting to call this off and spend the next fifteen minutes sitting a few feet apart waiting for his erection to deflate – yet he didn't.

It felt like a bit of a struggle on both sides until Bruce finally grunted and twitched, from head to toe, and Tony lifted off, stroking the base soothingly as the other man finished coming. Bruce was shaking a little, the act itself being secondary to the struggle within him, yet Tony felt a sudden surge of accomplishment and moved up, kissing the man with deep, slow passion. "We did it," he murmured against his lips then plopped down on the bed beside him.

Bruce gathered himself for a few moments then got up to go to the bathroom and take care of the condom. Tony waited, listening to the water and the open and close of the special trash can that was reserved for possible radiation risks. A chuckle escaped him; not in a million years had he thought giving such a crappy excuse for a blow-job would have felt like one of his greatest triumphs and that lying here while Bruce methodically wiped away every last trace of it would be somewhat comforting.

When the other man finally joined him, Tony smelled soap and little else. Bruce still looked a bit rumpled but relaxed too, now that it was over.

"I imagine not all of your similar encounters were like this," Bruce commented, a note of self-loathing in his voice.

"Oh, none of my previous encounters have been like this," Tony agreed, then lifted one hand to trace Bruce's shoulder in an idle pattern, stopping only when he spoke up again: "None of them were with you."

Bruce huffed. "You don't have to sugar-coat it; I know this wasn't what you –"

"Expected? Wanted? Deserved?" Tony interrupted him. He propped himself up on one arm. "It went better than I thought it might. I've wanted to do this for a long time, and it's going to be easier the next time around."

"It… shouldn't be a struggle," Bruce kept arguing, softly, tiredly. "You shouldn't have to hold back and wait." He glanced down Tony's body. "Plus, it could at least turn you on."

Tony grabbed his jaw so hard and fast that Bruce's eyes glowed green as they stared at each other, yet Tony had a feeling reasoning with the Hulk might go easier than convincing Bruce of what had just happened. "Listen carefully, Banner. No, it wasn't pretty, and yes, it was nothing I've gotten used to, but I chose this. I chose you over every super-model and easy fuck in the world. What I just got to do to you is something no one else has since you bombarded yourself with gamma rays. If that isn't the biggest turn on in my life, I don't know what is, but the task was a bit too emotionally demanding for me to be sporting a huge hard-on right now."

The green faded, leaving Bruce's eyes a familiar brown.

Tony took that as a sign to continue, his hold on the man's jaw not relaxing: "We've gotten this far, which is a fucking miracle. We battle aliens, gods and super-freaks once a week, the other guy almost killed me and no one has a clue what will happen tomorrow, yet here we are, trying to build something. I'm not going to give you a speech about how wonderful it could be or how happy we might be, because we both know the odds. So either we're doing this or not, and… I damn sure can't do it alone."

There were very few things that Tony could admit he couldn't do without help, yet his relationship with Bruce was one of them and if he could have worked around that, he would have already done so. As it was, he needed Bruce to work with him and not wimp out after they had invested so much in this relationship.

Tony felt something wet on his thumb and noticed one single tear sliding down Bruce's face. He let go of his jaw, realizing maybe he had hurt him, yet the other guy hadn't come out…

Bruce's hand shot up, fisting in his hair, pulling him closer. "Come here," he said, voice strained, then pulled Tony into a kiss that was long enough to make his lungs burn. He was just about to call for a pause when Bruce unsealed their mouths and leaned their foreheads together. Tony's eyes had trouble focusing on something that was so close but he was aware of Bruce's intense gaze burning into his.

"So…" Tony started.

"We're doing this. Together," Bruce told him then pulled him closer and made them lie down, the lights in the room going dim without an order from either one of them.

"If J.A.R.V.I.S. congratulates us, I swear I'll actually re-wire his system," Tony muttered against Bruce's shoulder.

_"I will leave any such congratulations for later, then, sir – should any actually be in order,"_ the AI replied snidely.

"I can think of a few reasons," Bruce murmured before the room fell comfortably silent.

_to be continued…_


	11. Chapter 10: Reality Check 2 0

**Chapter 10: Reality Check 2.0**

* * *

**S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Helicarrier**

_"Sir, the S.H.I.E.L.D. ATC has cleared us for approach."_

"Okay. Prep the disassembly unit," Tony replied to his AI and briefly boosted the repulsors as he flew along the bulk of the Helicarrier. Fury had called him in to look at some issues they were having with the engines. It was nice to be needed. "J, scan the engines and tap into the Helicarrier interface to see if there's something buggy in their system."

_"After our last break-in, they have put up extra firewalls,"_ J.A.R.V.I.S. noted dryly.

"But you left a back door open, right?"

_"Of course, sir. A moment."_

"Take your time," Tony smiled and then curved along one edge of the wishbone before finding the correct landing area. Doors slid out of the way, letting him in, then closed again to steady the pressure and air levels before allowing him further into the aircraft through another doorway.

S.H.I.E.L.D. personnel were milling around, giving him professionally curious looks. A group of what had to be new recruits gaped as Iron Man walked across the deck to get to a secured crate that would take off the suit.

J.A.R.V.I.S. had a lot of data for him by the time Tony got out of the armor and he slid a tablet free from the crate as it closed back around the armor, securing it until he left.

Tony tapped at the tablet, running diagnostics and getting further acquainted with the engine designs. Sure, he had looked at them already this morning when Fury finally let him access some of his father's work but there had been modifications and he needed to be aware of all of them before doing any adjustments; he didn't actually want to see the Helicarrier dropping from the sky because he removed the wrong wire.

"Stark," Fury's familiar voice boomed across the space and Tony gave him a minimal glance. "You're trying to break into our files again," the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. told him in his best long-suffering annoyed tone.

"Not trying but actually doing it – there's a significant difference between the two," Tony informed him. "Besides, it's faster than waiting for you to give me clearance." He lowered the tablet for a moment, giving Fury his undivided attention. "You called me here on a job. I'm here to do it. Are you going to chew my ass or let me work?"

Fury let out a breath of air that had to be a suppressed sigh. "It doesn't matter whether or not I give you clearance because you're just going to break in anyway."

"Problem solved," Tony grinned.

"Let me show you to the engine room," the other man said instead.

"Okay…" That put Tony on his toes; there was no reason for Fury to show him the way. Tony was certain the man knew very little of the technology that kept his ship afloat and there were people better equipped to help Tony should he need their assistance. He doubted it. Which meant there was something else Fury wanted to bring to the table while ensuring Tony was sufficiently busy to not back away if he didn't like it.

They took an elevator down to arrive to the main engine level. J.A.R.V.I.S. had already dug out a few programming errors and possible upgrades given Tony's own designs and ideas. As he looked around, Tony decided he wouldn't mind playing around the Helicarrier more often; there were so many things he could tweak and improve, to study and repurpose.

"I hear the Avengers are settling in," Fury started as Tony opened a panel to peer inside.

"They've been settling in for months," Tony replied absently.

"And Doctor Banner…"

"What about Banner?" Tony turned his head so fast he almost pulled a muscle in his neck. "Is this what you called me here for? To talk about Banner?"

"Partially," the other man admitted, giving nothing away.

"He's been good," Tony informed him. "He hasn't run away, and save for one incident that wasn't really his fault, there's been no trouble. The other… Hulk is working well with the team. You know all this. You've received, I imagine, countless reports of the progress of the team and each of its members."

"And those reports are why I want to know what you're planning with him," Fury pressed.

"Planning?" Tony didn't even try to mask the hurt and anger in his voice. "I'm not planning anything."

Fury snorted, hands on his hips, eye looking at Tony as if he saw something no one else could. "I know of your involvement with Dr. Banner. It's causing me some concern because let's face it, you're not the most reliable source for a stable relationship. We need him – the Avengers need him – and I can't let you fuck that up."

It shouldn't have come as any kind of surprise, not really. Pepper and Rhodey had both taken their turn to bust Tony's balls about his budding relationship with Bruce. Why wouldn't Fury join in? Clearly they all knew better than Tony what was good for him – and Bruce.

"For one, it's none of your business," Tony finally replied, jaw tense. "Secondly… well, I don't really need a second because the first should be sufficient enough."

Fury raised an eyebrow. "I think it _is_ my business. When you screw this up, I'll be the one responsible for clean-up."

"Have you even for a moment entertained the idea that Bruce has stayed as long as he has because of me?" Tony challenged him. He hadn't wanted to go there, to admit that much of their relationship, but Fury was getting to him and the man knew it.

"Yes," Fury replied simply.

"And you're still harassing me about this?" Tony narrowed his eyes. "You should be thanking me."

"If you can actually do the impossible and commit yourself to a relationship, I will."

Tony blinked, considering this, then shook his head and opened another hatch, burying his head inside to look at the wiring. If he dislocated a few, he might actually be able to cause a chain-reaction that might leave the Helicarrier dangling in the air at an uncomfortable angle. "It's nice someone's looking out for Bruce for a change," he muttered.

"I imagine you've already been told by several people to discontinue your relationship with him," Fury mused from the side; he had moved closer, leaning against the wall, casual and relaxed while Tony was trying not to burst a vein.

"How did you figure?"

"From the way you tensed the moment I mentioned him."

Tony closed his eyes, took a deep breath then lifted his head again to look at the man who probably in a sense considered himself Tony's boss. Good luck with that; he should ask Pepper that it wasn't worth the effort. "I've been given massive amounts of relationship advice and it's getting a bit repetitive. Why don't you all sign a petition and we'll see where it goes?"

"You do realize what will happen if you and Banner break up under bad circumstances? Or when one of you has had enough?" Fury almost sounded genuinely concerned but Tony knew better than to trust it; he knew the man had manipulated him before, although Tony wasn't certain how exactly he did it.

"You think I haven't given that some thought?" Tony finally met his challenge. "I'm in a relationship with a man who turns into a green rage monster that can tear me limb from limb out of sheer annoyance. I'm fully aware that pissing him off, prior, during or after a relationship might not end well for me. As far as my self-destructive tendencies go," he said, quoting Romanoff's old overview of him, "that's not on my list of things to do." He gave Fury a look which he hoped was hard and conveyed his full contempt for anyone doubting his resolve. "Anything else?" he asked then, daring Fury to try and run his bullshit by him again.

"Fix the engine problems," Fury retorted as if that was the only thing they had been talking about and pushed away from the wall, and began walking away.

Tony looked after him, feeling a bit uncertain if that's what he had expected to hear.

Just before Fury reached the elevator, he called back: "Don't fuck it up, Stark. For all our sakes."

Tony gritted his teeth and wondered if he could cause Fury heart palpitations by pretending to drop his flying fortress from the sky.

_"Shall we resume working, sir?"_ J.A.R.V.I.S. spoke in his ear.

Tony brushed one hand up against the ear piece, adjusting it slightly. "Sure."

_"For the record, I think you and Dr. Banner are doing very well. On a related topic, Dr. Banner inquired as to when you are expected to return; there are a few tests he would like to conduct with you in the lab upon your return to the Stark Tower."_

Tony grinned. "It's nice to hear at least some things are going my way."

_"Indeed, sir."_

"Send him an estimate of how long we'll be up here and tell him to enjoy the lab."

_"I will and he says he's already enjoying it very much."_

"Tease," Tony chuckled and immersed himself into his work. The quicker he finished here, the faster he would be back in Manhattan and joining his amazing science boyfriend for whatever tests Bruce had in mind.

_to be continued…_


	12. Chapter 11: Conditioning

**Written for:** This chapter was partially inspired by anonymous' prompt at **avengerkink** (avengerkink . livejournal . c0m /6021 . html ?thread=8744069#t8744069), Live Journal (Bruce/Tony, Dryhump – Yep, that's all I want. A fic about Bruce and Tony dryhumping. Cause it would be hot).

* * *

**Chapter 11: Conditioning**

* * *

**Stark Tower  
Manhattan, New York City, NY, USA**

When Tony finally made his way back to Manhattan, he had managed to avoid further confrontation with Fury. He knew it wasn't only through his own efforts, though; most likely the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. had said his piece and had nothing further to discuss with Tony for the time being. It wasn't as if Tony wanted to talk to him either so he just finished all the repairs he could do on the spot, promised S.H.I.E.L.D. engineers he would get back to them about a few persisting issues and headed home.

He had checked with J.A.R.V.I.S. that Bruce was still at the Tower – which he was – and it was stupid how giddy he felt while taking off the armor and preparing to join the other man. They enjoyed science together regularly, although their areas of expertise didn't always meet outside crisis situations. Tony, however, compared Bruce's brilliance to the rays of the sun and basked in it shamelessly. He would have even done it naked should that yield better results, but the one time he suggested that to Bruce the other man threatened to ban him from his lab – the lab that was actually Tony's but he wasn't a stickler about correcting that particular fact.

"Daddy's home!" Tony called out when he entered the lab, looking around for Bruce. He heard a chuckle before he actually spotted him and sauntered over, smiling, leaning close to the other man. "Have I told you how good you look in a lab coat? I wouldn't mind you wearing nothing but that for a week."

"I didn't know working on something for Fury would get you so horny," Bruce replied.

Tony let out a mock gasp, pulling away from him and sitting on a table filled with notes and lab equipment. "That's cruel, buddy," Tony accused him. "After you sent that little message through J.A.R.V.I.S., did you think I wouldn't be excited at the prospect of coming here to work with you while you're _enjoying_ the lab?"

He got a smile in return; it was shy and coy but beneath it, quite visibly, was an undertone that told Tony Bruce knew very well. "The two of us must see the term 'working' very differently," the scientist finally replied.

"It's a good thing I like you," Tony pressed, leaning a bit closer to him while swinging his legs. "I'm giving you a lot more leeway than I would other people."

"You are?"

"Oh yes. You're a tease."

"Well," Bruce mused, putting away a tool – Tony had no idea what it was and that alone made his cock jerk, just a little, because Bruce was one of the few people who could actually make equipment he didn't recognize – and looking at him. The simple sensation that traveled across his body as their gazes locked was incredible and Tony inched a bit closer on the table, pushing away items on his way.

"Well, what?" Tony challenged, impatient.

"I did ask you here for a reason," Bruce admitted.

"And?"

"It actually wasn't work; I used the term 'test'. But I digress. I wasn't really interested in conducting tests – not lab-related ones, anyway. It could be seen as scientific and a lot of biological aspects are involved…"

"You sweet-talker you," Tony grinned. "Come here and kiss me. Now."

Bruce narrowed his eyes just slightly. "How did you know I meant that?"

"What else could you be meaning?" Tony deadpanned. Well, frankly, a few months – hell, _weeks_ – ago he might have considered Bruce wasn't talking about sex, or something sex-related, but after they had begun to actually explore that avenue, slowly and painfully, he got the feeling Bruce was getting more comfortable with it – and at embracing the fact that he had needs and was allowed to fulfill them, especially with Tony.

"I could name a few things," Bruce admitted, stepping over, his body pushing Tony's legs a bit wider as he very innocently shoved his weight between them.

"Is that your nose growing?" Tony teased, knowing it to be a lie.

"I'm pretty sure it's something else," Bruce murmured then tilted his head and Tony leaned in the rest of the way to kiss him. It was lovely, as far as kissing went. Bruce always started slow and careful, as if expecting Tony to have a seizure and die of some unexpected exposure to his infected blood. It had yet to happen and until it did, Tony was going to push the other man to skip the pleasantries and just go to town.

It was fortunate Tony was gifted at motivating other people when it came to intimacy; his tongue chased Bruce's lips, drawing the other man to follow him back to his mouth, accompanied by a gasp – almost as if Bruce took himself by surprise every time. Tony knew it wasn't like that, seeing as Bruce controlled his every breath and what his tongue did in Tony's mouth once it finally got there.

Bruce could fake it all he wanted but it was nothing but an act anymore. After the necessary precautions had been taken, it was all about what they wanted, and that happened to be, very conveniently, each other.

* * *

Even on the best of days, a call from Fury for whatever reason put them all on edge. That he had simply wanted Tony to take a look at the Helicarrier's engines was nothing short of a miracle, yet Bruce suspected it had been about more than that; Tony always relaxed when he worked, being in his element, but right now his body was tense against Bruce's, betraying what his good mood was hiding perfectly.

There were so many signs he could read which Tony couldn't cover once he had let Bruce near enough to see them. That was one of the privileges that came with their deepening relationship. After all, knowing when Tony was on edge helped Bruce control his environment; if he anticipated Tony's triggers on top of controlling himself, his life was in a sort of harmony.

Bruce withdrew his tongue for a moment, inhaling, licking Tony's lips while he felt a slight tug on them – a half-smile from his lover, a private display of pleasure and happiness. He lifted his hands, tracing Tony's sides and moving up to his shoulders, feeling the tension and waiting for it to vanish bit by bit. Tony was easily distracted although it was only temporary at this point; Bruce would have to dig deeper to find out what had happened with Fury – he knew how easily the man got to Tony – and then untangle the emotional mess.

For the time being, though, 'temporary' was enough.

Bruce was eager for it today, he could admit as much. He had been thinking about Tony and when the man finally arrived, perching himself on top of the table, the faint smell of his cologne invading the sterile lab area, Bruce knew he wasn't going to back down. Just because he wanted it didn't mean he was out of control and they still had all their safety measures in place. Should something happen, Tony would be out of the lab and in his suit and J.A.R.V.I.S. would contain the other guy.

Tony always said it wouldn't come to that, which provoked Bruce's fear that the other man would not actually leave the room when he should. That Tony would stay, adamant that the other guy wouldn't hurt him. It wasn't something Bruce could control, however, and if he wanted to be absolutely certain then he would have to leave Tony, the country, and disappear, making sure they would never see each other again. That was the only way to ensure Tony wouldn't get hurt.

Bruce could admit he was selfish when he pushed forward, the friction against his hardness maddeningly good. He was taunting the beast, flirting with danger at every thrust against Tony. He put the man he cared about – and countless others – at risk just because he couldn't find the will to call this off and leave.

Tony would come after him, he knew he would, adamant that Bruce was just being stubborn. Convinced that he would do more good than evil here…

Bruce had been determined and adamant before, resolutely staying away from people. His resolve had been crumbling lately and it was beginning to feel like a weakness. If only it didn't come with such sweet sensations, of Tony pushing closer to him, winding his fingers in Bruce's hair, tugging but not pulling, mouthing his cheek, his hot breaths ghosting over his skin as stubble and goatee dragged together before one side gave in and released the tension.

"Is this really how we're going to do this?" Tony asked, voice breathy, eyelids fluttering. It was partially a well-learned act, Bruce knew that, so he waited it out; waited until Tony's eyes were open again, so much wider than when he usually looked at people. One of his hands was still in Bruce's hair while the other was clutching his shoulder, tracing, tugging, holding onto him and refusing to let go.

Bruce smiled. His hands slid down from Tony's shoulders to his hips and he pulled slightly, helping him off the table. "Four layers of clothing is… safe," he announced.

"You're assuming I'm wearing underwear," Tony teased.

"You are," Bruce said confidently in his ear as he turned the other man around then leaned against his backside, feeling Tony's body from thighs to shoulders. The curve of Tony's ass was most prominent against him and gave Bruce a fine counterpoint to work against. His arms held Tony close around his waist, offering no immediate relief as he sought his own. The rubbing sensation of his underwear was by no means pleasant but when he pushed his face against Tony's shoulder, smelling him, a peeking odor of sweat piercing through the cologne, he knew it was good enough.

Tony's hands were on the table, holding his weight steady, his head held high. His skin was heating up beneath his clothes and Bruce lifted his face, pressing it at Tony's hairline, encountering slight wetness. He stuck his tongue out, licking it, all the way to his ear, making Tony moan at the sensation. Bruce moved back down, as far as he could go before clothing restricted his access then started again, chasing the taste of sweat and skin. His hips pressed more intently against the other man, his teeth carefully nipping the skin, knowing he could not afford to break it.

"One day," Tony murmured, "we're going to do this the right way."

Bruce knew what he meant and needed no clarification. He knew what Tony wanted, could admit he wanted it himself, but it was so far away from where they were now. Yet the mere idea of reclaiming the level of intimacy he'd had before the other guy, to be with another person like that… By no means did he want to downplay what he and Tony had now, even if it meant rutting against him with their clothes still on for the rest of his days. He would gladly take it.

But the human mind was forever reaching out for more and he had already dreamt it a dozen times, knowing his brain knew what he couldn't have while awake – not yet.

"You would let me," he sighed against Tony's neck.

"I would. It will be good."

Bruce smiled, wanted to laugh and drown himself in the idea of being inside the other man, of giving Tony what he wanted and to not feel so damn afraid of the connection that was the most natural thing in the world. But Bruce was still concerned and it had to remain, for the time being, just another sizzling fantasy that pushed his current pleasure a step further on the road to completion.

He shifted his hips, finding a perfect angle and Tony shifted his legs just slightly. It seemed to make all the difference: Bruce groaned, feeling his release rush across his abdomen and he held Tony still through it, face still pressed into the back of his neck, eyes closed, hips jerking and rubbing his release all over the inside of his clothes. It was going to be a mess but that had been the goal to begin with.

Tony's back was moving with his every breath and brought Bruce back to the moment. He smiled, kissed the sweaty skin one last time and then allowed Tony to turn around, meeting his hot eyes with his sated ones.

"You still like me?" Bruce had to ask.

Tony's lips twitched. "A little less if you're not going to give me a hand."

"Can't risk that," Bruce decided and reached out. Tony's eyes followed and he said nothing at all as Bruce pulled over a box of gloves, tugging out two and putting them on. "Undo the belt and the button," he instructed then.

Tony complied, his hands hovering afterwards. "This will be easier if I just take my pants off," he noted.

"We're not going for easy," Bruce informed him then shoved one hand down the front of Tony's pants and underwear, directly to where it mattered most. Tony's hips jerked into the touch and he leaned forward against Bruce's chest, fingers restless on his clothed shoulders.

"Why the gloves?" Tony asked after a moment, the touch no doubt alien on his skin yet no less pleasant. "I mean, we've done this before and there's no danger. Is this a medical fantasy?"

Bruce admitted nothing and decided to leave it at that as he slid his other hand over, against the curve of Tony's ass and between the cheeks. He didn't have to wander to find what he was looking for and Tony practically mewled in his ear, hips sashaying between the sensation of pre-cum-slicked fingers on his cock and the dry touch on his hole.

It didn't take long and Bruce felt Tony's body clench tightly as one of his digits slipped in to the heat of his ass while warm wetness covered his latex-covered fingers.

Tony sagged against him briefly before regaining control over his body. Bruce took that moment to withdraw his hands and remove the gloves, throwing them into the trash. Tony had resumed his seat on the table in the meanwhile, pants still unfastened and clinging to his hips along with his underwear. A smile tugged his lips and Bruce reached out to try and smooth the wild disarray of Tony's hair, knowing his own was no better.

_"Sir, Captain Rogers is requesting to know whether you and Dr. Banner will be returning to the Avengers Mansion tonight?"_ J.A.R.V.I.S. broke in, ruining the moment. Well, most likely the AI had been waiting for them to finish before posing his question.

"Are we?" Tony asked.

"Sure," Bruce agreed, fingers still in Tony's hair. "Are they preparing supper?"

_"They are going to order pizza in a few hours,"_ J.A.R.V.I.S. responded.

"The food of the gods, clearly proven by Thor's voracious appetite for the cuisine," Tony chuckled.

"We should clean up," Bruce reminded him.

"Don't make it sound like it's my fault, because this time it's not," the other man was quick to remind Bruce this had been his idea. It was Tony's way of showing his appreciation, in a way, even if he hid it within complaints and protestations.

"What can I say, you're a bad influence on hazardous lab activities," Bruce shrugged.

Tony narrowed his eyes. "Don't play innocent with me, Dr. Banner."

"I wouldn't dream of it, Mr. Stark."

Tony sighed and hopped down from the table, fastening the button of his pants. "Shower, then we're off to the Mansion," he decided and looked up hopefully. "We could shower together."

It was something they rarely did, mostly because they felt the need for it at separate times and sharing a bed didn't mean sharing everything else. Bruce guessed he wouldn't mind having Tony for himself a little longer, not to mention enjoying the closeness of his naked skin – although that might lead them somewhere Bruce wasn't comfortable with again right this instant. It was a risk he had to take, however, to enjoy the rest of what was being offered.

So, he nodded, and Tony smiled, heading to the door, leaving Bruce to follow him up to his room. Bruce took one last look around the lab then nodded and watched as lights began to switch off; J.A.R.V.I.S. would take care of anything else. Tony was at the elevator, holding the doors open, leaning against the frame nonchalantly. He rolled inside when Bruce reached him, the doors sliding shut before the car moved upwards.

"Hello," Tony said in a sultry voice. "Fancy meeting you here."

"You sound like a bad porn movie," Bruce commented.

"Then maybe I'll give you a bad, slutty blowjob in the shower," Tony's raised his eyebrows suggestively.

Bruce's eyes shifted to the side. He brushed at the side of his nose with his hand, shifted slightly. "Tony…"

"Hey." In those few seconds Tony's entire tone had changed and he approached carefully, touching Bruce's arm gently. "Look at me, big guy," he asked softly, none of the earlier teasing clinging to his words. "You know I didn't…"

Bruce felt frustration boil in his throat and he looked at Tony. He wanted to shove him back, to break the contact of their bodies, no matter how minimal. He wanted to smash his hand against the elevator wall, see it bend and give in. He burned to push against Tony's body and claim him, hoist him up and fuck him hard – but he knew he could do none of those things.

The elevator stopped, doors sliding open. There was no one else there and the doors magically stayed open – thanks to the ever-present AI. Bruce knew that if this went the wrong way, J.A.R.V.I.S. would intervene.

"Are we still going to shower?" Tony asked. Some of that hidden uncertainty bled through his words, his body already leaning backwards, away from Bruce, resigned to the fact that he had blown it and they wouldn't talk for the rest of the night. Might not even sleep in the same bed.

Bruce knew how it would feel to go down that road; he would feel bad, wanting to smash his head against a wall and pound at something. Itching to let the other guy out but knowing it wouldn't change his basic needs in any way. He would lie in bed at night, alone, keenly aware of it and knowing Tony was doing the same, pretending it didn't hurt but aware that each setback ate at Tony's confidence.

"Yes, we're still going to shower," Bruce replied.

Tony nodded and started to move out, heading towards his suit. His posture suggested he didn't expect Bruce to follow. It was such a small change but Bruce saw it nonetheless. It was as if his brain had slowly been tuned to read the other man, his mind conditioned to respond to Tony's countless unspoken means of communication most people never unlocked or bothered to see.

Those people had blown their chances at more, would never get to see the man behind the layers of pretense and insecurity, of bravery and harshness. Those people never knew what they had failed to understand.

Bruce wasn't those people.

"Do I have a change of clothes in your room?" he called out.

Tony stopped, turned to look at him, re-calculating the situation. "I'm pretty sure you do. Want me to bring them over?"

"No," Bruce shook his head minutely and stepped out of the elevator, moving to follow Tony.

"You'll get them yourself," Tony replied for him.

"I'll get them once I'm done washing up," he corrected, crowding Tony's space for a moment and resting his lips against his. It was more like a brief nudge of shoulders than a kiss but it was a sufficient apology for his near-freak-out. Tony took it, all of it, following him instead and not questioning the new approach.

Bruce opened the door, knowing J.A.R.V.I.S. had already unlocked it. He was aware how special it was to be able to just step into Tony's space like this; his bedroom was perhaps the most guarded room in the entire tower. Somewhere between Afghanistan, nightmares and becoming Iron Man, it was important to feel secure when in his own bed and Bruce knew his was a name on a very short list of people who could actually walk in while Tony was asleep.

They stripped quite unceremoniously, although not without certain long looks passing between them. It was more than just two guys checking each other out because they were past that even if seeing each other completely naked was still a bit of a rarity. Bruce wondered why one of them was usually partially dressed, or both of them, even when sex was happening.

Bruce expected Tony to carefully test the ground – which he did, but not very cautiously when he stepped over and laid a hand on Bruce's chest, playing with the dark hairs before flicking a nipple. His eyes were on Bruce's face the entire time, barely sparing a glance at what he was doing. His other hand eventually slid down to Bruce's stomach, following the treasure trail down towards his flaccid cock. Bruce knew he wasn't going to go for it, though. The talk in the elevator had been a scare of sorts, more than shouting and arguing could ever accomplish; Bruce had frozen and that indicated an end to certain pleasures.

"Let's get showered before there's no more food left," Bruce finally said and pulled back. It wasn't that he disliked being touched, least of all by the man he enjoyed touching in return in so many ways, but he knew that if he let it go on long enough, he would have to re-evaluate his own resolve once again and he would rather not give Tony mixed messages while doing it. They both deserved better.

The shower was spacious but they still stayed close under the spray. Tony never stayed beneath the water's flow for too long, never turned his face up beyond a certain angle. They were small things, unnoticeable if you didn't look for them and see them repeatedly. It hadn't taken Bruce long to spot it, nor to realize that in certain moments it was better for Tony to be alone, away from people, while in others he craved company he could trust. He liked to fake it, to surround himself with strangers and hide the signs but that was merely a coping mechanism born of an urge to pretend nothing was going on. The real Tony still tensed sometimes when Bruce touched the arc reactor, loathed the sensation of water up his nose, and could spend hours sitting with an untouched drink in his hand as he stared at nothing at all.

Between their first meeting on the Helicarrier and this moment here, it was like knowing two completely different people. Tony hadn't kept the act going with Bruce for long, steadily stripping it away, perhaps not even knowing how much had changed. Bruce felt bad, more often than not, that he couldn't do the same. Not because he felt guilty or felt pressured to open up the way Tony did, but because he needed to get that feeling of trust with another person, a sense of security and confidence.

Part of him had been resigned to the fact that it would never happen, that he could never give Tony the real Bruce Banner, whoever that man was – or had been, years ago.

"I can leave if you want," Tony spoke up. He was looking at Bruce, wet hair on his face, eyes blinking against errant droplets of water. Bruce looked at him, acknowledging the residual tension between them and wanting to extinguish it, to surgically remove it and stitch the wound close so it could never gape open again.

"It's your shower," Bruce replied, knowing it was far from what he should say or do.

Tony shrugged, looking away. There was nothing but tile wall to look at so it couldn't be interesting, yet Bruce had the feeling it wasn't the tiles Tony was seeing in the first place.

He reached out, touching Tony's cheek, making him snap out of it. That startled look lasted less than a second before the walls came up, then lowered again when he recalled whom he was with. The fact that Tony thought – or felt – that he didn't need his usual walls with Bruce made his insides twist and forced him to take a step closer, to touch Tony more, to reassure him that they were okay, that nothing was wrong.

"One day," Bruce murmured, "we're going to look back at this and laugh at how pathetic we were."

"We're doing okay," Tony frowned.

"Does this feel like 'okay'?" he had to ask.

"I've done worse," Tony boasted, which made Bruce doubt each word.

"Tell me one of those _things_ meant something and I'll believe you." His voice wasn't a growl, far from it, but Tony reacted as if it had been, eyes darkening, lips relaxing. He didn't answer, not verbally, but the passion with which they were kissing the next second proved Bruce's unspoken thesis; Tony treated their fragile, new relationship like it was nothing he had ever experienced before. He put it on a pedestal, determined to believe it meant something more, that it would become something more meaningful, if it wasn't already. Whether or not Tony was just kidding himself was harder to prove, especially when Bruce liked to think that maybe, just maybe, this was every bit as special and precious, no matter which romantic filter he ran it through.

Tony's body against him was wet and solid, more so in the chest. The metal of the arc reactor casing was never really cold, warmed by the skin and the reactor inside, but the change in texture, with the mass of scars alone, set the protruding section apart. Without it, however, he would have had to open his eyes and confirm it was Tony. Whatever cues Tony used to do the same with him…

Tony always said Bruce smelled different. It could be the gamma radiation although Bruce didn't expect Tony to be able to distinguish a smell even if there was one. Other than that his body wasn't remarkable in any way; he was reasonably fit after being on the run but there were no scars to set him apart. He was an average guy in every sense and he knew the brain Tony claimed rivaled his own was not a physical thing to enjoy or recognize.

"We're missing supper," Tony finally whispered against his lips. They were still kissing, slow and shallow, just lips and a tiny bit of tongue slipped here and there. Bruce knew that if he allowed his mind to wander, he would get hard and as tempting as that was, someone needed to be responsible. He knew Tony wouldn't say no to anything he wanted but Bruce wanted to take one step at a time and his days of marathon sex were most likely long gone.

"Better get scrubbing," Bruce agreed eventually, pulling back a bit and allowing Tony to select a bodywash. He opted to use the same since it was within his reach and soaped away the traces of their earlier activities. He wasn't really dirty otherwise but Tony being Tony meant that he did at least some kind of routine with his hair before getting out and since he didn't want to leave the shower early, Bruce opted to give his scalp a massage while the conditioner worked.

"So, what did Fury really want?" he asked, thinking this a good time to broach the subject; Tony was relaxed under his ministration and he couldn't really escape the situation, his hair needing rinsing and soap in his eyes.

"Engine repairs," Tony replied.

"Besides that."

Tony was silent for a moment, no doubt trying to foresee the reaction to his words if he let them out of his mouth. He usually didn't have such good restraint which led Bruce to prod for answers:

"I know something happened up there, and while it might have not been Fury –"

"Of course it was Fury," Tony huffed.

"What did he say?" Bruce pressed.

"He… delivered carefully worded concerns. Wanted to know how you're settling in."

"Settling in?"

"With me," Tony finally admitted.

Bruce didn't let his fingers stop their movements, feeling the tension return and wanting it gone. If he showed how much this got to him, Tony was going to go off his hinges with frustration and no one wanted that – least of all Fury. He knew this wasn't the first time someone had felt it was their place to tell Tony their version of how things should be going. Previously it had been two people who knew Tony perhaps better than Bruce did, although he wanted to remedy that, but to have Fury join the movement made him uneasy.

"It wasn't a big deal," Tony attempted to calm him, reading Bruce's silence as disapproval. Well, he was disapproving… "I told him to shove it."

"In those words?" Bruce smiled.

"Not exactly."

"You're actually showing some restraint. I'm so proud." He leaned in to kiss Tony's naked shoulder, avoiding a tiny river of conditioner.

"I was tempted to make the Helicarrier drop from the sky, at least a little bit," Tony confessed with that angelic voice of his that never fooled anyone of his sinister intentions.

Bruce chuckled, unable to help it. "Better you than me," he said, thinking he should regret it but he didn't, not really. They all knew what had happened that first time. Bruce had dug out footage, with J.A.R.V.I.S.'s help when Tony refused to show him in case Bruce 'took it the wrong way'. Bruce still wondered how he was supposed to take it, other than for what it was.

Tony relaxed a tiny bit and Bruce started the water, slow at first so as to not alarm him. He rinsed Tony's hair clean, liking the intimacy of it, knowing the other man was bound to enjoy it, too.

"It will get better," he said when the shower was finally turned off and they stepped out to towel themselves dry.

"Of course it will," Tony replied. "Can't get much worse."

Bruce guessed so, but as long as people weren't openly protesting their involvement, it was manageable. It was just a transition phase and if Bruce wasn't directly involved he might have questioned it as well. That, of course, was a lie: Bruce questioned it more than anyone else ever would, and Tony knew that, too. That was why he didn't bring it up unless he had to, preferring not to feed the flame of doubt in Bruce's mind and give him reasons to call this off.

Not that Bruce was certain he could even if he wanted to – especially when he didn't want to. He was weak, after all, and weak people made bad choices even against their better judgment.

_to be continued…_


	13. Chapter 12: Reality Check 2 5

**Chapter 12: Reality Check 2.5**

* * *

**Avengers Mansion  
Manhattan, New York City, NY, USA**

The drive to the Mansion was shaping up to be quick and painless. Tony could admit he was hungry; his stomach had evolved past making noise complaints but it didn't mean he couldn't feel it, should he be in the state of mind to notice.

He briefly glanced at Bruce as he drove. The man appeared peaceful, looking out the window. His entire demeanor suggested Bruce was in a good place, which delighted Tony; he wanted Bruce to be happy, to feel good. If he was partially to blame for that, all the better.

"One of these days, I'm going to take you to Malibu with me," Tony said after the silence had gone on long enough.

"Oh?" Bruce turned to look at him.

Tony nodded, making a sound of confirmation. From the corner of his eye he saw the other man smile, just a little and all too quickly, then lean back in the seat and settle in a more comfortable position.

"Okay," was all Bruce said back.

When they finally got to the Mansion, the gates opened automatically as they recognized the car. Tony briefly wondered if he should change that, seeing as someone might steal one of his cars and gain access to the grounds that way. Unlikely, but possible; you could never be too careful. Then again, who would be insane enough to break into a building housing six superheroes?

Possibly someone who had a beef with them – but those people wouldn't bother to steal one of Tony's cars just to get in.

After parking and shutting off the engine, Tony looked at Bruce once again. The other man looked back, giving him another one of those small smiles. Tony considered kissing him; just a peck, quick and sweet… or a full frontal assault which would lead to them staying in the garage for another half an hour at least.

"I'm hungry," Bruce declared before Tony could make up his mind and opened the door, getting out. Tony had a brief chance to admire his backside before the door was shut and he either got out or sat there stupidly staring at the passenger side door.

Tony rose from the car, shutting the door and locking it. "You owe me a kiss," he told Bruce as they walked towards the elevator.

"I do?" the other man asked innocently, as if he had no idea.

"Yup," Tony nodded his head. He stopped by a cabinet on the wall, punching in the code and placing the car keys on a hook inside before closing the door again. By that time the elevator had arrived and Bruce was holding the door open for him.

"I don't see why," Bruce went on, not dropping the subject.

"In the car, you knew what I was thinking about," Tony clarified as the doors closed and the elevator car started moving smoothly upwards.

"You didn't make your move," Bruce shrugged.

Tony punched the panel on the wall, stopping the elevator. J.A.R.V.I.S. would know nothing was actually wrong so the AI decided to stay quiet, which worked just fine. "You practically ran out of the car," Tony started in his defense.

"I thought the point of coming here was to get out of the car," Bruce reasoned, licking his lips. Tony's eyes followed the movement. "We came here to eat, and we can't eat in the car."

"But before we eat –" Tony insisted, losing his train of thought as Bruce suddenly leaned in.

"If I give you a kiss, can we go and eat?"

"You could try and not make it sound like a hardship."

"I said I was hungry and while kissing you is satisfying on many levels, it won't fill my stomach," Bruce reasoned.

"Don't they say food fills a certain emotional need?" Tony mused. "Hence a kiss, while equally if not more emotionally satisfying–"

"I'm not going to call you a comfort food, Tony," Bruce chuckled then leaned in and joined their lips together.

Tony may have leaned on the wall and released the elevator, or J.A.R.V.I.S. decided they were ready to move along again, but before Tony was anywhere near done with the kiss, there was a soft _ping_ and he felt a faint draft – followed by Barton's groan.

"God, my eyes! I need those to do my work, guys, seriously!"

"Don't be such a drama queen, Clint." It was all sorts of wrong that it was Rogers saying that and Tony had to turn around and check that his ears weren't playing tricks on him. No, they weren't. "Food's here," Rogers announced a second later and began to herd Barton towards the living room where, apparently, they were going to eat tonight.

Bruce shrugged when Tony gave him a look, brushing his hand across his mouth as discretely as possible to wipe off any evidence of the kiss. Tony rolled his eyes, which got him a sharp look – and another kiss, which totally took him by surprise. If Bruce wiped his mouth after that one, Tony didn't see, too busy exiting the elevator before J.A.R.V.I.S. closed the doors between them.

"Hey, guys," Romanoff greeted them upon their entrance. Bruce placed his jacket on the back of one vacant chair and claimed it as his. Tony quickly threw himself down on the one next to it, feeling like a little kid trying to be next to his new favorite person at all times but hey, it was his house and his sort-of-boyfriend so he was allowed, right?

Rogers was methodically opening pizza boxes and handing everyone their own plates. There were various toppings to choose from and it could probably feed a family for a week, but between Rogers and the rest of them, there would barely be a few slices left for breakfast.

As they ate, Tony dug out his phone and checked the latest news J.A.R.V.I.S. had collected for him. Nothing alarming had taken place so he soon dismissed the headlines. His message box, on the other hand, was as full as usual. Most of it was Stark Industries-related business – with a fair amount of random messages from 'friends' who wanted him – or Iron Man – to attend some function so that they could show off their non-existent connection to him.

He put the phone away, already annoyed, then finished eating, wiped his fingers, and drank the rest of the water in his glass. Peering at it, he mused whether he could get something stronger to fill the glass. He looked to the side, meeting Bruce's gaze, and knew the answer to his question: not tonight. Where Tony might have typically demanded that he be allowed to drink if he wanted to, he didn't bother with the theatrics right this time. Maybe if he denied himself the pleasure of drinking, he might coax some extra tenderness out of Bruce later at night.

"Are you done eating?" Rogers asked suddenly and Tony realized he was talking to him.

"Yeah," he replied, making sure there was nothing on his plate the other man might want to eat; Rogers had an old-fashioned habit of not throwing away anything even remotely edible. Tony guessed it was one of his habits no one felt too pressed to change, and it made them all clean their plates since the alternative was to suffer that sad gaze and the sensation of feeling guilty for throwing away food – not that Rogers let them do that if he was around.

"Can I talk to you?" Rogers went on.

Clearly this wasn't about the food and Tony nodded hesitantly, getting up with a quick look at Bruce. It wasn't as if he was seeking approval but rather acknowledging that the man was there, and he knew it, and thus was showing interest in the fact. Yes, Tony could be a considerate lover, with all the little gestures. With Bruce he didn't even have to think about them that hard because they came naturally, and sometimes he felt like they both liked it that way.

Rogers stood up as well, following Tony to a study a few rooms away from the others. Tony had a feeling this was going to be a private discussion and was proven right when Rogers closed the door softly behind them.

"What's cooking, Cap?" Tony asked casually.

Rogers frowned – he did that a lot – then let it go. "I hear you visited the Helicarrier today."

Oh. It was Tony's turn to frown, although he didn't let it go nearly as fast. "Really? Fury tattled? I didn't think he was the type to gossip." Of course that wasn't the real issue here. _If_ Fury had bothered to talk to Rogers about his visit, Tony knew it wasn't about the engine problems.

"He didn't gossip," Rogers replied stiffly, as if getting offended on Fury's behalf. "He informed me of the conversation you two had – not in detail," he added quickly.

Tony had a feeling he might be having that drink after all. "And?"

"And I think we should talk," Rogers said, looking as uncomfortable as he sounded.

"I thought you were fine with this. Us. Our involvement. My involvement with Bruce," Tony rattled off, uncertain how exactly to put it into words and _not_ scream in frustration.

"I am," Rogers reassured him. "As long as it doesn't affect the team."

Tony gave him a suspicious look. "It's not affecting the team, so what's the problem, Spangles?"

Rogers was getting defensive, Tony could see it in his posture, and he was just fine with that. Rogers had brought this up; he was the one with a problem, so it was fair to see him squirm. Rogers went on talking, more hesitant than earlier: "I need to know it's not going to be a problem later, either. Obviously you are…"

Tony's eyebrows shot up. "Are you blushing? Seriously…" He resisted rolling his eyes. "This is stupid. I can't promise you a damn thing and you know that. Fury knows that. _Everyone_ knows that and still they think they can come and rub it in my face how our relationship isn't going to work, how I'm going to fuck it up, how Bruce is going to lose control and squash me –"

"Maybe we should talk about this another time," Rogers cut him off mid-tirade.

"No!" Tony snapped, pointing a finger at him. "_You_ wanted to talk about this, so we're going to talk about it, right now."

Rogers swallowed, his face going a tiny bit blanker than it had been. As if he were preparing himself for something highly unpleasant.

That realization rubbed Tony in all the wrong ways. "Bruce and I are part of this team – we're one third of the team. It's not like there's going to be a majority vote, because I don't give a fuck what you or anyone else thinks. Neither does he. If this thing works, awesome. If it fails and someone doesn't get killed, it's still better than the worst case scenario. Either way, it's none of your business, and you can relay that message all the way to Director Fury as well, in case he didn't get the message earlier."

"There's no reason for you to get so riled up," Rogers told him calmly, and he had no right to sound so… righteous.

"Riled up?" Tony hissed. "Okay, I'll calm down. Fine. Tell me what the problem is. Tell me why we're here, instead of out there with the others. Do you have some great piece of wisdom you want to share? A great revelation that I don't know about yet?"

Rogers sighed, looking down at the thick carpet beneath their feet. "I don't want to tell you what to do," he started.

"Good," Tony snapped.

"But I want you to understand that if this thing doesn't work out, if something goes wrong, for whatever reason, Bruce is going to walk and we'll lose the Hulk." Rogers looked at him, Tony could feel it, although he didn't want to meet his eyes right now, resolutely staring at the wall and a painting that hung there. It was one his mother had liked. He might have to replace it. "Tony," Rogers went on a bit louder, as if he thought Tony weren't paying attention, "I don't want to say you're not…" He drew a sharp, frustrated breath. "I don't want to believe everything people say about you because I don't know if they really know you, but I've gotten the impression that things don't work out for you every time. I don't want to lose a third of my team because of that."

Tony chewed on the words, turning them over in his head. Rogers waited with patience that would have certainly killed Tony should he try it himself; the super soldier said nothing and simply stood there, understanding and courteous although he was being the exact opposite. Didn't Rogers hear himself talking? Did he think that claiming he didn't want to label Tony as something actually freed him of any guilt when he made his accusations?

"Anything else?" Tony finally spat out, as indifferent as he could make it – which was difficult.

"I didn't mean to insult you, or insinuate that –"

"But you did," Tony snapped at him. "If that's all you have to say, Captain, then we're done here."

Rogers met his eyes, nodded stiffly and then exited the room as if he had been dismissed.

Tony took a deep breath and resisted the urge to grab the nearest movable object and hurl it at the door that closed behind the other man.

Instead he took a moment, standing there and letting it flow through him, repeatedly, until it was manageable – or until he had stuffed all of it into some dark corner in the back of his mind. He tried to mimic the breathing exercises he had seen Bruce do but they didn't help at all, making him feel like he was suffocating instead and that was never good.

Eventually he gave up, returning to the living room via the liquor cabinet. He poured himself a small drink, trying to keep it under control, shuffling over to the others once he was done. Bruce had moved to the couch, listening as Natasha talked about her modeling gigs – she had actually done those, which kind of surprised Tony.

Tony settled down beside Bruce on the couch, close enough to touch but not initiating intimacy. He was aware of Bruce looking at him, then as minutes passed he felt the other man's familiar grasp slide down his arm to his wrist, settling there, instigating contact. Tony threw back the rest of his drink and allowed his mind to wander, ignoring everyone in the room beyond that touch on his wrist and the fact that he wanted to stab Captain America with one of the tooth picks Barton was using to construct some kind of tower on the other side of the table.

The sad part of it was, it wasn't Rogers Tony was really mad at.

Not directly.

It was the fact that so many people seemed to think his newest relationship was doomed to fail, and that the aftermath would be too horrific for anyone to imagine.

The most gruesome part of it all was that it was entirely possible.

_to be continued…_


	14. Chapter 13: Breathing Out

**Chapter 13: Breathing Out**

* * *

The morning after his talk with Steve Rogers, Tony was still mad. He wondered if actually screaming would help – some people saw it as an effective form of therapy – but he guessed Bruce might not understand.

_Bruce…_

Tony turned his face to one side of the large pillow, guilt and a horrible myriad of unsorted feelings filling his chest to the brim until it turned into a physical pain. All throughout last night Bruce had been a silent support beside him, as if he knew what had transpired between Tony and their leader. Rogers had been quiet but not uncharacteristically so; he gave no one a reason to bring up what he and Tony had talked about – or everyone just knew not to open that can of worms.

When it had come time to go to bed, they hadn't talked; Tony had brushed his teeth extra carefully, to banish the last taste of alcohol. Bruce had hung around, doing his evening routine and then had pulled Tony onto the bed, their bodies touching and giving Tony comfort he'd felt like he didn't deserve.

Bruce blinked opened his eyes as Tony debated whether that was true or not. It looked like Bruce hadn't actually been asleep for a while, but he hadn't left the bed either. "What did Steve want?" he asked, voice not at all sleepy, confirming Tony's suspicion that the other man had simply been waiting for him to wake up.

"I gotta take a leak," Tony replied, rolling over and struggling to get off the bed smoothly. Sheets clung to his body but he pushed them off to rise to his feet and make his way to the bathroom. He emptied his bladder, washed his hands, then returned to the bedroom. Bruce was still in bed, as if waiting for him. Tony guessed it might not be a lost cause to seek out some of that intimacy he had so been looking forward to before Capsicle wanted to have a word with him.

He got back onto the bed, moved over to Bruce on his hands and knees, and began pressing his lips against an exposed shoulder.

"What did Steve want?" Bruce asked again, voice still soft but unwilling to be ignored.

Tony closed his eyes and resisted the temptation to bite the skin in front of him; he knew that would set Bruce off and although it would make him forget his annoying question about Cap – which Tony had no desire to answer – Tony would rather not go down that road where they weren't even allowed to kiss for days because Bruce was reminded of all the reasons why this was a _bad idea_.

Tony was so tired of hearing that from everyone else; he didn't need it from Bruce, too.

"He joined the peanut gallery," Tony finally replied.

Bruce wasn't pleased with his answer, Tony could tell that without looking at him. He sighed heavily, trying to convey his unhappiness in such a simple sound, then rolled over onto his back on the bed, half-missing the pillow and landing a foot away from the other man.

"Why can't anyone be happy for us?" he mused out loud after a moment, staring at the ceiling. "Not a single person has actually come up to me and said, 'Hey Tony, nice work! You got yourself a genius for a boyfriend, who's also kind of hot, and you're doing a very good job with him'."

Bruce chuckled and shifted. Tony turned his head to look at him, watching Bruce prop himself up on one arm, lying on his side. "At least they care," he pointed out. "If they said nothing…"

"You can't honestly believe that," Tony complained. "And how come I'm the one they're talking to? When is it going to be your turn to hear what a disaster we're going to be, according to everyone? The only thing that varies depending on the person is whether it's me or you that causes the problems in this relationship." He let out an angry breath, feeling it all coming back. "Is it too much to ask for them to either be positive or say nothing at all?"

_"If I may interrupt,"_ J.A.R.V.I.S. started suddenly, _"I am happy for you, sir."_

Tony blinked. "What?"

_"I'm happy for you and Dr. Banner, sir,"_ the AI repeated.

There was something to be said in response to that, a reply of some kind, but all Tony could do was blink and feel a bit of a burn behind his eyeballs. It figured that of all the people around him, his AI would be the only one who could calculate the outcome the way Tony did, yet it wasn't supposed to make him feel so… emotional.

"Thank you, J.A.R.V.I.S.," Bruce smiled softly, glancing up in the general direction of the ceiling and then inched a bit closer to Tony. "See? Someone's happy."

"He doesn't count," Tony argued but his words didn't carry much weight.

Bruce heard that and settled down to lie beside him, breaths warm against the side of Tony's chest. "At least they care," Bruce said again, as if that was supposed to make it all better.

It really didn't.

_to be continued…_


	15. Chapter 14: Confirmation

**Written for:** The chapter (directly and indirectly) responds to anonymous' prompt at **avengerkink**, LiveJournal (Tony Stark/Steve Rogers + Bruce Banner [Science bro to the rescue!] – The movie has proved that Tony and Bruce become science bffs. So, the Avengers start to live together and there is another "take that away, what are you?" fiasco that cuts Tony to the core. Bruce tells Steve off in his own version of the "Hurt him and I'll break your legs. Then the Hulk will sit on them" speech.)

* * *

**Chapter 14: Confirmation**

* * *

Bruce wasn't blind, nor was he stupid.

He was well aware Tony wasn't getting riled up about nothing. While he could think objectively and see that everyone meant well – or didn't, but were advocating the best interests of the Avengers or the world – a line had to be drawn somewhere, eventually. Bruce had, perhaps in vain, hoped that he wouldn't have to get involved and that things would calm down on their own once people accepted his and Tony's relationship wasn't going to be swept under the rug.

Life wasn't that simple – especially not when Tony and Steve were in the same building, avoiding each other but on a collision course nonetheless.

"Just say it, Rogers! Spit it out! Don't be shy, _soldier_!"

Tony and Steve were currently half a Mansion away from Bruce and he could still hear them.

"Fine, Stark! I'm done with your self-centered bullshit."

Bruce cringed. It took a lot of effort to make Steve swear and apparently this was one of those days when Tony was pushing _all_ the buttons.

"Be careful, old man –"

"You're one to talk. Without the suit, you wouldn't even be here!"

"Says the guy whom even _I_ could have snapped in two before a dose of super-soldier serum!"

"ENOUGH!" Natasha barked from Bruce's side of the building. "God," she muttered then and continued in a litany of various languages as she marched out of the living room and towards the stairs to go to her own room. "I would tell them to just go fuck each other but I think you might take it the wrong way," she threw in Bruce's direction when she passed him, a rueful smile on her face. A little while later a door slammed upstairs and Bruce sighed.

Steve stormed down the hall a few seconds later, embarrassment all over his features. He pointedly kept from looking at Bruce; he would go outside for a run then beat up a punching bag at the gym until he no longer saw red.

Tony made an appearance a good ten minutes after Steve had exited the building, a look of deep hurt on his guarded face. Bruce knew the look, knew how deep Steve hit every time the subject was brought up. Sure, it went both ways, but Bruce was infinitely more protective of Tony than he was of their serum-enhanced teammate; far as they knew, Steve's condition couldn't be changed, whereas Tony wasn't at his strongest outside the suit. He had the smarts, a brain Bruce could admire from every angle if he wanted to, but that didn't match the brute strength that was often needed in their line of work.

A moment passed before Tony moved over to the shelf where he kept his favorite liquor bottles and Bruce hung back, deciding this couldn't go on forever.

Something had to give, and he was one to believe in controlled venting.

* * *

Tony had passed out two hours ago. J.A.R.V.I.S. had been making calls even before that, but when Bruce dragged his lover's unconscious body to Tony's bedroom, it had finalized his decision.

Bruce sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. Tony didn't look peaceful as he lay there, the smell of alcohol hanging like a cloud around him.

He had hoped his presence in Tony's life might encourage him to seek answers in places that didn't exist at the bottom of a bottle – and for the most part Bruce could see Tony was trying to cut back on his drinking. At times like these, however, Bruce saw the weak, wounded person who did all the wrong things to deal with the damage, flushing them out only to have them slamming right back with the next wave.

"Is everyone coming?" Bruce asked the silent room.

Tony let out a half-groan, half-gurgle, shifting but nowhere near waking up.

_"I have reached everyone on your list and stressed the importance of their presence. They are going to arrive on time."_

"Good," Bruce sighed again and closed his eyes for a moment. "Please let me know if it looks like Tony's going to drown in his own vomit or something."

_"Of course, Dr. Banner."_

Bruce chuckled at the ease with which J.A.R.V.I.S. replied. "You've been told to do that before, haven't you?"

_"Frequently, yet not so much since you entered his life,"_ the AI revealed. _"Like I told you before, I am most pleased with the development of your relationship with Mr. Stark."_

"I hope I can keep it that way."

_"I have no doubts about that, Dr. Banner. Would you like to freshen up before your meeting?"_

"I suppose I should," Bruce mused. Tony had sort of thrown up on him while he maneuvered him up to his room. Not the worst thing that had happened to him over the years, but he knew better than to step in front of the people he had invited in his current condition. With that in mind, he got up, stripped and went to shower, knowing that he could make all the noise he wanted and Tony would remain asleep on the bed.

By the time he finished, put on a fresh set of clothes and placed the dirty ones in a hamper, it was nearly time and he checked on Tony one more time, making sure he was positioned as safely as possible. Despite the smell that had haunted him since his childhood, Bruce pressed a kiss to his cheek, lingering for a moment, breathing in until he could smell Tony beneath alcohol, cologne and gastric acid. When he found it, a small smile spread on his lips and he pulled back and walked downstairs.

Everyone had gathered in one of the studies, as per his instructions; J.A.R.V.I.S. was good at herding people for someone who was only a voice. He noted Thor was present as well, although he had been the least likely person to come on such short notice. He looked more serious than the rest and Bruce wondered if Thor had misinterpreted the message somehow.

"Thank you all for coming," Bruce spoke up, closing the door behind him. He didn't think Tony would wake up and much less wander all the way down here, but one could never be too careful. Not that this was a secret, but he didn't need Tony's commentary right now.

He looked at the room in general. Pepper Potts sat in one of the armchairs, back straight and still in her work attire. Natasha, Clint and Thor were on one couch, Steve standing behind it with Nick Fury. James Rhodes sat in another armchair, looking a bit tense although he was trying to hide it.

"Your message sounded urgent," Fury started.

"There's something that needs to be taken care of," Bruce nodded. He didn't want to do this, to stand here in front of all these people, but he had committed… Well, it wasn't that simple. He hadn't signed a contract or made a verbal deal with someone, yet he and Tony had agreed on several things, verbally, physically and emotionally. Bruce was committed and none of these people were going tell him otherwise – or the man who had wormed his way into his life.

Pepper shifted uneasily, not glancing at her watch as she did so which meant she was uncertain of the situation. Rhodes simply looked at him, waiting – much like Natasha and Clint, not revealing anything.

"Where's Tony?" Pepper finally asked.

"Passed out, upstairs," Bruce answered casually. "Too much to drink," he clarified, in case someone – Thor – thought something had happened. He saw the Asgardian relax slightly and nod in understanding, although Bruce doubted he had ever passed out from excessive drinking in his long life.

"He does that a lot," Rhodes commented off-handedly, as if the crisis had been averted. He leaned forward, as if preparing to get up.

"That's not why I arranged for you all to come here," Bruce said quickly, before anyone else got the idea to leave. Rhodes leaned back in his chair, looking even tenser, if possible. "As you're all aware, I'm sure," he went on, hesitating slightly before plunging forward, "Tony and myself are in a relationship." He didn't elaborate or second-guess it in front of these people. He might not be sure how far up the relationship-scale they were right now but it didn't matter. He would have to get his point across and that wouldn't happen if he didn't believe in what he was saying.

While there were hesitant nods from the others, Thor grinned. "Congratulations!" he sprang up from his seat, looking like he was going to declare it was time to celebrate. Bruce gave him a quick smile before motioning him to sit back down; Natasha pulled Thor back down to the couch, seeing as the God of Thunder didn't get the hint without it.

"I think those reactions sum up the dilemma we're facing," Bruce went on. "I'm aware some of you have taken it upon yourselves to bring your opinions to Tony's attention, and while I appreciate the concern and well-meaning thoughts… it has to end." There was no eloquent way to put it that he could think of, so he just said it. He even refrained from naming names or giving people looks, knowing everyone knew exactly whom he was talking about.

"Tony hasn't been very forward about the content of your concerns but I think I've got the gist of them." He looked at Pepper and Rhodey in turn. "I'm aware and keenly familiar with the danger I pose to Tony. Our relationship puts him into a uniquely threatened position and I'm doing my very best to keep anything from happening to him. If that promise is not enough for you… well, there's nothing more I can do," he admitted. Short of leaving Tony… but no, that wasn't on the table today.

His gaze moved on, towards the back of the couch where Fury and Steve still stood. "To anyone who's approaching this from an alternative angle, I would like to point out that we're doing fine – more precisely, I'm fine." He gave it a bit of a dramatic pause. "I'm not an idiot and Tony couldn't hide any detail of his gruesome past – dating, weapon designing, or otherwise – from me even if he tried. I wasn't born yesterday, I know what people like Tony are like. But I also respectfully consider the possibility that he's able to do better, if that's how you want to put it."

Thor nodded along while the others didn't reveal much of their thoughts on the matter. Bruce wouldn't have cared about that if it wasn't affecting his own life through Tony. They were here so that he could put a stop to it, and they wouldn't leave before he felt like he had driven his point home.

"In conclusion, I want you to stop harassing Tony about the misgivings you have about our involvement. No more nagging, no more helpful advice. I'm sick of dealing with the aftermath of these encounters and they're not helping me keep my calm in any way."

His gaze fell onto Pepper. "Yes, he's broken up about you. No, that's not the only reason he's with me – I believe I'm partially to blame for that."

It was only natural to continue with Rhodes: "I know what I am, and Tony certainly knows as well. That's not why he's with me, no matter how interested he is in the other guy. Don't think I haven't made that distinction very clear to him."

He moved his eyes onto Fury next. "If he fucks up, it isn't on you. I don't need him feeling threatened by yet another person who should be on his side, not against him."

Next he looked at Steve, hesitating briefly because this was his friend, his teammate, and someone he would have to be around in the future. However, certain things needed to be established. "I know the wellbeing of the team is important to you, as it should be to all of us since we're in this together. However, if you can't be civil with him, I would prefer you say nothing at all. Tony might not be able to stop his mouth from running but I expect something better from you, Captain." He took a deep breath, accepting Steve's firm nod. "And if you ignore that, I won't be held responsible for what happens afterwards – or what the other guy might do, seeing as he's rather protective of Tony. Broken body parts may be the least of your concerns if you hit Tony beneath the belt again."

"Burn," Clint whispered to Natasha – who didn't respond in any way. She seemed to be taking this seriously, perhaps thankful she hadn't felt the need to go and have a chat with Tony.

Bruce looked at Clint, meeting his eyes, pinning him down. "I like you guys, I really do. I would like to think we're friends and that we're on the same team, but if I have to choose… Let's just say I might not be the only one to choose Tony, and I'm not really the one you should be concerned about."

Not that the other guy had yet to make an appearance simply because Tony was upset, but it was only a matter of time. Bruce was unwilling to just let it happen and would rather choose to put it out there for everyone to observe and sample so that no one could say they hadn't been warned.

"Is everyone clear on where we stand regarding my relationship with Tony?" he asked, not faking pleasantness although he was tempted to, just to see a room full of people squirm.

"Crystal," Clint replied.

"Is this where we're supposed to apologize?" Rhodes asked.

"No," Bruce shook his head. "Apologize to Tony if you feel the need, but I'm good."

Rhodes nodded, looking thoughtful, just like so many of the others.

Thor was the first to get up, clasping Bruce's shoulder before heading to the kitchen to search for something to eat. Natasha and Clint left next, disappearing without a sound. Fury took his leave after them, not saying anything but the look he gave Bruce suggested that he was going to watch them twice as hard in the future. As long as he didn't say anything to Tony, Bruce was fine with it. Pepper and Rhodey left next, in unison, perhaps feeling a bit out of place in the crowd.

That left Steve, still standing behind the couch, looking thoughtful. Bruce briefly wondered if he had been too harsh on the man, but then Steve looked up and he looked almost thankful. "It's good to know you have each other's backs," he noted. "And I think I… needed to hear that."

"You're welcome, I suppose," Bruce replied carefully, feeling restless again, not knowing where they stood, exactly.

Steve moved around the couch and over to him, looking Bruce in the eye. "I can't make promises, but I'll… try and curb my willingness to get into fights with him."

"Just find other ways to get it out of your system," Bruce agreed. "Otherwise I might have to break your legs. And have the other guy sit on them."

Steve chuckled although his eyes remained serious. "You really care about him."

"It's becoming painfully apparent that I do," Bruce nodded, looking at the room which still felt like someone else's home. He doubted it would ever feel like a place where he belonged – but with the right people in it, who knew?

_"Dr. Banner,"_ J.A.R.V.I.S. cut in before Steve could reply – if he had something left to say. _"Mr. Stark has awakened and is currently attempting to make his way to the bathroom. If you are no longer needed here, perhaps I could ask you to go and check on him."_ Which was a polite way of saying that Tony was still a mess and probably crawling on all fours around the room.

"I'm on it," Bruce promised and gave Steve a meaningful look. "If you care about someone enough… you're willing to look past alcohol-induced sickness."

Steve laughed and gestured for Bruce to get on with it, which he did.

As expected, Tony hadn't quite made it to the bathroom by the time Bruce got into the bedroom. It looked – and smelled – like Tony had managed to hold onto the contents of his stomach, although he was clearly hitting the limit. As soon as Bruce had moved him over to the toilet, he was head-deep in it and throwing up.

Bruce patted his back and decided it had to be love of some sort.

He helped Tony up once he was done, rinsed the toilet and helped him wash his face and get out of his dirty shirt. Tony slumped down on the tiled floor, accepting the glass of water when Bruce handed it to him and smiled tiredly up at him. "You don't have to play nursemaid, you know that, right?" Tony said after a moment, sounding criminally sober compared to his level of inebriation just hours ago. "You're not even a real doctor…"

"Real enough to take care of this. Now drink up before I force it down your throat," Bruce threatened softly and Tony did as he was told. After two more glasses he threw up again but looked a bit better and crawled back to the bed after another glass of water. He didn't ask for Bruce's help – another sign that he was used to dealing with this alone.

Bruce noticed the bedroom smelled a bit more aired-out, no doubt thanks to J.A.R.V.I.S. and some prompt air conditioning while they were in the adjoining bathroom. He pulled the sheets up, covering Tony's body, then decided to join him since he had no actual desire to see anyone else right now.

Tony rolled towards him as soon as he settled down, draping a heavy, limp arm across his chest. "What've you been up to?" he murmured, clearly meaning the time he'd spent unconscious in bed.

"Had a nice chat with some people," Bruce told him, kissing the top of Tony's head then noticed he had fallen back to sleep, looking a bit better this time around. Bruce looked at him, openly and for a long time, wondering if he'd done the right thing today – and whether he was ready for all the things that came by implication.

_to be continued…_


	16. Chapter 15: Reaffirmation

**Written for:** anonymous' prompt at **avengerkink**, Live Journal (Bruce/Tony, Protectiveness – Thor, Clint, Natasha and Steve have to worry about Bruce attacking them as well as the enemy when he becomes the Hulk. Tony has to worry about the Hulk grabbing him, sticking him somewhere safe (or at least somewhere defendable) and smashing anyone who comes near said safe place.)

**Author's note:** I'm not familiar with the Wrecking Crew, other than from their brief visit in _Earth's Mightiest Heroes_. I apologize for any errors in their criminal behavior (then again, they haven't been introduced in the MCU yet, so my take on them can't really go wrong.)

* * *

**Chapter 15: Reaffirmation**

* * *

**Manhattan, New York, NY, USA**

Tony was returning from a meeting in Union City, New Jersey, and he swore that if he heard another exclamation in Spanish he was going to start banging his head against the first solid surface he could find. No, he didn't mind the language and yes, he knew the meeting had been important, but when people began to digress from the schedule and just had to involve Iron Man and the Avengers in the discussion, prolonging the already exhaustingly long meeting, Tony couldn't help but try to stave off the inevitable headache.

The towncar was just leaving the Lincoln Tunnel, which meant they weren't that far from Fifth Avenue and the Avengers Mansion. Sadly, Tony's brain seemed wired to take the path a crow – or Iron Man – flies, rather than considering actual roads – and rush hour. As the car stopped moving, Tony sighed at the sensation of stifling air. Sure, the car's interior was pleasantly cool and all he had to do was wait, but the honking horns and impatient people all around him set him on edge.

He missed Happy; at least with his old driver he had felt a kinship in this kind of misery; they would have shared a joke, commented on the other commuters and talked about things Tony was interested in. This new person Pepper had hired was still wet behind the ears – so wet that instead of acknowledging who Tony was, he would rather not bring it up at all, clearly avoiding the subject just as he avoided Tony's gaze most of the time. Not that Tony cared, but he noticed. Maybe it was a new professional policy in SI to not bring up Tony's superhero life, but it felt like he was being dismissed and ignored – which just wouldn't do.

Looking out the window, Tony undid his tie and pulled it off, throwing it on the seat beside him. His jacket followed and he worked the cuffs open when the car moved forward a couple feet before stopping again. He would have gotten home quicker on foot – and even faster with the suit, but Pepper seemed to think taking the suit with him to meetings wasn't professional. Maybe Tony should tell her that since those people were more interested in Iron Man and the Avengers than their newest business proposal, maybe he should attend in the armor.

At least then he could skip the traffic.

"Everything okay, sir?" the driver called from the front. Did he actually care, or did his paycheck require him to annoy Tony?

"Yes," Tony replied, rubbing a hand over his forehead then lowering it to grab his phone, working the top button of his perfectly pressed shirt open with the other. There were no messages – not even from Bruce, which kind of hurt. Maybe he should call the guy and ask what was up with that, although he suspected the other scientist was working on something and J.A.R.V.I.S. would answer in his stead.

The car jerked forward another few feet and Tony considered walking. Or maybe if Thor was still visiting, he could come pick him up. Hanging onto the God of Thunder while flying across Manhattan wasn't Tony's first choice in travel modes but if he was confined to this car a moment longer –

"Mr. Stark," the driver spoke up again. It wasn't as if they had even exchanged that many lines of conversation but the guy deeply annoyed Tony. He couldn't explain it, nor should he need to since he was the billionaire and was allowed to be eccentric.

Opting to ignore the obvious attempt for conversation, Tony glanced out the window again – only to see a motorbike sailing through the air before landing on a car in the lane next to theirs. His head whipped around, noting broken glass and dented metal but nothing more serious, then began to turn around to see where the bike had come from.

"Mr. Stark," the driver started again, louder this time, and Tony saw it in the same second: a black man wearing a getup no sane person – save for superheroes and villains – would show themselves in public places, swinging a wrecking ball in the air as if it weighed nothing, slamming it into a van few cars ahead. The side of the van dented, punched in under the pressure as if it were made of cardboard, after which the vehicle jerked and started tipping over onto the car on its other side.

Yanking the wrecking ball free, the man continued walking, swinging it again as if considering his next target.

"Okay," Tony commented. "That's new."

"Should we call the police?" his driver asked.

The wrecking ball changed direction in the air and was brought down to the asphalt, hard. The ground rippled, as if in an earthquake, making the cars jump slightly all around them. People were starting to panic, leaving the limited safety of their vehicles and spilling in every direction where the attacker wasn't.

While Tony was certain the police were already drowning in calls about the incident, he wasn't certain if they could actually do anything about this. Keeping his eyes on the action, the villain still several cars from him, Tony palmed his phone again and started to send J.A.R.V.I.S. a message; they needed to get him suited up, right now.

This was going to be another good reason why he should go to meetings dressed up as Iron Man.

Something smashed against the top of the car, denting the roof. The driver screamed like a little girl. The extra strong windows rattled as the metal around them bent under the weight. Tony started, looking up, deciding that moving might be the best plan of action.

Whatever had hit the car moved, scraping along the roof and falling onto the hood. Tony saw a glimpse of the wrecking ball before it was snatched back and he dreaded what might come next. Moving across the seat, his hand shot to the handle of the door but nothing happened. He pulled at it furiously a few times until his eyes moved up and decided that with the twisted frame, the door was stuck. That didn't stop him from lifting his feet and trying a couple kicks to dislodge the door anyway.

The wrecking ball came crashing down again, a few of the windows slipping free from their places. The driver shouted incoherently, moving into a small ball on the front seat while the roof caved in even further. Had Tony not been lying down on the back seat, his headache would have been magnified at this point.

He gave the door another kick but it didn't budge. The roof, however, was suddenly being peeled back, metal crying as it was forced to bend in two. Sunlight burst in and Tony sheltered his eyes, blinking – then felt a hand grab his front and yank him out as if he weighed nothing.

"Stark," a voice announced.

His eyes finally working, Tony peered at the man holding him – but it wasn't the man with the wrecking ball. No, this guy was blond, with spiky hair, looking suspiciously average in every way – if you dismissed the large hands holding Tony in the air. And when he said 'large', he meant unnaturally proportioned to the rest of his body, which made him want to make a rather inappropriate joke considering the rest of the situation.

"You could have just called my assistant to ask for a meeting," Tony ground out, the grip of the large hand making breathing uncomfortable. People were still running away from the scene of destruction, none of them stopping to consider if he needed help. Not that he needed help; he was Iron Man, after all – only sans the armor at this very moment and he realized he had just misplaced his phone, which made gaining access to said armor more difficult than he cared to think.

The guy with the wrecking ball walked closer, still spinning his weapon of choice lazily in the air as he considered Tony. "Did you call the Avengers?" he asked.

"I can take you guys on all by myself," Tony replied – then felt the grip on his upper body change and he flew briefly before hitting the hood of a car and tumbling down from it to the hard ground. Voices chuckled, more than two. Tony pushed himself to his knees and noticed another two men arriving, one with a funky-looking helmet and the other carrying a crowbar. "What's the name of your circus act?" Tony asked as they closed in on him. "Bob and the Builders? I'll write it in your obituary –"

"We're the Wrecking Crew," the man with the crowbar informed him, then smacked said tool across Tony's face. Tony didn't feel bone breaking but it was close, sending him back to the asphalt as half his face went numb. "Get up, Iron Man," the man – clearly the leader of the group – ground out.

Tony spat blood from his mouth, testing the inside of his cheek with his tongue. Teeth were in place but his tongue was bleeding from where he had bit down on it, and he was certain he would have some difficulty finding his face from beneath the bruise that was forming. "You sure you don't need back-up?" Tony asked, although the truth was that if the others hadn't already been alerted to this, Tony would be toast.

The blond with huge hands lifted him up again, slamming him back against a car. "I'll shut him up," he promised.

"Not yet," the man with the wrecking ball denied the request. "Let's prepare for the arrival of the Avengers. If they take too long, we'll just have to motivate them a bit better – and that's why we need Stark alive for the time being."

* * *

**Avengers Mansion  
Manhattan, New York, NY, USA**

It was a few days after Bruce had gathered them all together to clear the air. Things had gotten back to normal after that: Bruce and Tony worked, the latter attending meetings and other company-related functions; Clint and Natasha trained, as did Steve, and Thor had decided to stay with them for a bit instead of immediately returning to Jane Foster in New Mexico.

Tony had left early that morning and hadn't gotten back when J.A.R.V.I.S. called the Avengers who were present into an emergency meeting. Screens were already alive on the walls when Steve entered the underground floor, noting that Bruce's face was filled with concern. Fury's face floated on one of the screens, scanning the limited view he had of the room and its occupants. Thor finally arrived as well, setting Mjolnir on the floor carefully.

"What's going on?" Steve asked, seeing as they were all here; Clint and Natasha were at S.H.I.E.L.D. and would probably hear of anything alarming that way.

_"We have a situation,"_ Fury jumped right into it. _"A group of four criminals has made an appearance in Manhattan. They call themselves the Wrecking Crew."_ Data appeared on one of the screens, detailing the group members and their powers. Steve scanned over it as quickly as he could: Wrecker, the leader, whose choice of weapon was a crowbar of unknown power; Thunderball wielded a wrecking ball, capable of conducting energy bolts; Bulldozer, who seemed to favor ramming into people and things with a helmet and a piece of armor on his shoulders and neck; Piledriver, whose large hands apparently rivaled his teammates' powers. They all had enhanced endurance and strength, making them a formidable group.

"I know this man," Bruce stepped forward, pointing at Thunderball. "Dr. Eliot Franklin. He also specialized in gamma radiation, although his methods of gaining funds for his research landed him in jail."

_"He's the brains of the operation,"_ Fury agreed, _"although Wrecker's the one in control. They were incarcerated before their most recent escape – and apparently they're trying to attract the attention of the Avengers."_

"Consider it done," Steve replied.

_"They are currently located at the corner of 9th Avenue and West 30th Street. They're taking the high ground."_

"Should we wait for Tony?" Bruce frowned.

_"They have Stark."_

Steve felt cold dread squeeze his insides and his eyes shot over to Bruce.

"What?" the scientist asked so calmly he had to be feeling the exact opposite.

A video feed from one of the surrounding buildings showed them the scene of destruction on a rush-hour street: destroyed cars, upended vehicles and broken glass, people running away from the action. The image zoomed on a dark car, its roof being pried open by Piledriver before he pulled out a man and threw him to the side after a short pause.

Thor let out a sound of deep disdain. "They shall pay for attacking our teammate in such a fashion."

_"Doctor,"_ Fury started. _"If you are uncertain whether you can handle the situation –"_

"Don't worry," Bruce bit back, calm disappearing from his voice as they watched Wrecker lift his crowbar and smack Tony across the face with it. Without his armor, Tony was defenseless. Against the four of them, he didn't stand a chance, although Steve wouldn't count him out just yet. "I'm going to handle it," Bruce went on, voice dropping a notch as his eyes followed the Wrecking Crew's movements into a nearby building where they had clearly taken refuge.

_"Barton and Romanoff have just taken off from the Helicarrier. They'll join you on location,"_ Fury informed them.

Steve nodded quickly. "We'll suit up and meet them there," he agreed then turned to look at the other two Avengers – only to see Bruce turning and leaving the room, his hands raised to his chest. "Banner," Steve called out, taking a few quick steps after him. "Bruce," he repeated, trying to draw his attention, "he'll be fine. We'll get to Tony, we'll bring him a suit and he will help us beat up those –"

Bruce wordlessly yanked off his shirt, now unbuttoned, discarding it on the floor. There was something about his posture that made Steve halt, to back off, and he did so just in time before Bruce's skin begun to take on a green tinge and the familiar yet sickening sounds of muscles and joints reordering themselves rose to rival the animal growl coming from his throat.

"I think he is not listening to you," Thor mused from Steve's side, Mjolnir in hand.

Steve laid a hand across Thor's shoulder, signaling for him to wait: perhaps Bruce was in control and the Hulk knew exactly what to do and whom to go after; Bruce hadn't looked like he was fighting the transformation.

Deep huffs of air filled the brief silence that had fallen as the Hulk stood before them, barefoot on top of the tattered remains of Bruce's shoes, the torn pants barely clinging to his widened form. The poisonous, green eyes regarded the two of them as the Hulk turned to look at them over his shoulder.

"We need a plan," Steve started.

The Hulk snarled at him then turned away again, marching down the hallway that was just wide enough to let him do that without brushing the walls. "Open," the Hulk demanded when he got to a door leading to the stairs, "or Hulk makes a new door."

J.A.R.V.I.S., perhaps knowing the green rage monster would do just that, opened the door promptly. The Hulk pushed through, roughly and uncaring as one of the doors was torn from its hinges and left lying on the floor in his wake.

"We may have a problem," Steve admitted and looked at Thor. "We have to follow him, make sure he doesn't go rampaging in the city."

Thor nodded and they rushed to the stairs, following the Hulk's path upstairs and into the main hallway, from where the beast had exited to the world outside. Steve wished this wasn't one of the fears he'd had when Tony and Bruce got involved, but Bruce and the Hulk were often two different beings entirely, so he had hoped one wouldn't affect the other in this case.

Had he so easily forgotten the Hulk's protectiveness of Iron Man in the months after the training incident?

When they got to the yard, it was empty and suspiciously quiet. "For a beast his size, he moves very quickly," Thor observed, shifting the hammer in his hold.

Steve swore. He hadn't even had time to suit up, and they had planned on bringing one of Tony's suits along, if possible. Now what were they going to do?

A roar traveled through the air and they looked up just in time to see the Hulk jumping up high, from one building to the next, skipping a block at a time, heading south – towards Tony's last known location if they were in any luck.

"We have to move," Steve decided, looking at Thor. "Can you fly and carry me at the same time?"

Thor nodded, clasping Steve's arm firmly, Steve doing the same, then felt himself being yanked off the ground as Thor lifted off, gripping Mjolnir. Steve wondered if flying always felt like being a toy dragged along for the ride. Wind whipped past him and they avoided a few choppers hovering over the city. Without his uniform, Steve felt naked but there was no time to go back for it and he would have to count on the others to deal with this – especially when he had also forgotten his shield. He couldn't believe himself and this was going to be the last time he was so unprepared.

The Hulk, once they arrived at the scene, had landed heavily in the crossroads of two streets. Cars were everywhere, people milling around, some of them running away while others seemed drawn to the fact that at least one of the Avengers was present. Cops were beginning to arrive, sirens blaring, and Thor took them down to the ground beside the green figure.

As they touched down, the Hulk lunged at them, stopping as Thor and Steve both took a step back. The Hulk snarled and grunted, pacing slightly, looking balefully at the people and cars, clearly annoyed by all the noise and commotion.

"Where are they?" Thor asked, looking up at the buildings towering over them. "Are these cowards hiding?"

_Behind Tony's back,_ Steve felt like adding but knowing how riled up the Hulk already was, he dared not to voice that thought. "Hulk!" he called out, "we must find the Wrecking Crew – with as little smashing as possible." There were people around and he didn't want anyone to get hurt who didn't have it coming. Looking up, he wondered how far out Clint and Natasha were, seeing as they had left the Mansion without means of communication. This day just couldn't get any better.

Thor, who was in armor although not wearing his customary cape, looked around and then up. "Captain, up –"

It was as if a mountain had rammed into them, out of nowhere, although Steve was certain they would have seen if it they had been on the lookout. Thor smashed into him, hard, making them both sprawl out on the ground while something – someone – came to a halt beside them. For a brief moment he feared the Hulk had decided to take his frustration out on them, but instead he was faced by a more unfamiliar face – Bulldozer.

"Welcome, Avengers," another voice greeted and Wrecker showed himself in a smashed window. "I see Iron Man's arrogance is contagious, seeing as all of you didn't even bother to put on their armor. You'll regret it. Ram them again!"

Steve rolled to the side, just avoiding another hit. Thor met it, shoulder-to-helmet, grunting then lifting Bulldozer clear off the ground and tossing him to the side. People started screaming again, moving away, not wanting to be caught in the fight.

The Hulk roared briefly and Steve raised himself up, trying to find something he could use as a weapon. Thor had moved on to face Wrecker who had joined them at street-level, meeting his crowbar strike for strike while Bulldozer was still picking himself up. That left two more of the Wrecking Crew missing and Steve looked at the building from which Wrecker had emerged.

On cue, glass smashed far overhead and the Hulk glanced up, sniffing the air. A cry carried down to them and Steve watched as shapes moved across the expanse left by broken glass, high above the ground. He made out Piledriver and his huge hands, one of them holding Tony right on the edge.

The Hulk roared again, one fist pounding the ground before he braced himself and jumped five stories up, climbing up the building's side as if it were a ladder, fingers and toes digging in for purchase. Responding to the new threat, Piledriver moved once the Hulk was level with the broken window, pushing Tony out and dangling him over the drop of over a hundred feet.

Steve started, trying to calculate how to catch Tony before he hit the ground if the villain let him fall. The threat was clear even from below, and if the Hulk didn't see it and Thor couldn't untangle himself from the battle in time, there was very little anyone could do to keep Tony from hitting the sidewalk.

Before he could formulate a plan, Bulldozer attacked him, forcing Steve to move or take another hit. He dodged to the side, jumped over a few cars and saw the villain following him, sending a vehicle he had just been standing on flying. Without his shield, Steve felt naked but he was far from vulnerable. He let Bulldozer come to him and leapt at the last moment, avoiding the impact and searching for the means to end the fight.

"Hey, bucket head!" a call rang out and an exploding arrow hit Bulldozer in the shoulder, making him turn around so fast he almost lost his footing. Steve looked up as well, noticing Hawkeye and Black Widow down the street, moving closer.

"Where's the Quinjet?!" Steve called at once.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. agents dropped us off and pulled back to manage the civilians. Why?" Natasha asked once she was within hearing distance.

Steve clenched his jaw and pointed up. The others looked up and noticed the situation, only to let out sharp cries each. Steve followed their gaze just in time to see Piledriver release his hold on Tony, letting him fall.

* * *

The four idiots were hell-bent on facing off against the Avengers. Tony guessed that with all the cellphones and news cameras available these days, in a place like Manhattan, it would be only a matter of minutes before the others were alerted to the situation.

If only he were on his way to go suit up with the others instead of being dragged along in the firm grip of the guy with over-grown hands. 'Piledriver' they had called him. Tony had asked who came up with their names – so that he could seek out that person and sue him for such unimaginative thinking – and got a punch in the stomach for that. If he didn't have cracked ribs he would be sporting some seriously painful bruises in the aftermath of this adventure.

It felt like hours – and several bumps against corners and thresholds – before the Wrecking Crew settled on the top floor of an office building. Everyone had left, alarms ringing, intensifying the pain in Tony's head. He was glad for the quick evacuations because people didn't have to stand by and watch Tony Stark being hauled across the floor by his foot. Seriously, Piledriver could pick him up like he was a feather pillow, so why drag him around?

These people owed him a new suit, too. Armani clearly wasn't designed for this.

When a roar finally echoed off the buildings, the leader of the Wrecking Crew looked down from a wide window. "Bulldozer, you're with me. Let's greet the Avengers. You two stay here with Stark," he ordered and took the helmet-wearing man with him, heading back to the elevators.

Thunderball, who carried around the wrecking ball, stepped back and forth restlessly.

"They'll come for you, too," Tony promised from his place on the floor. "The Avengers are generous folk, they won't let you leave without a parting kick."

Thunderball sneered at him and lifted the ball. Tony braced himself, knowing that if that thing even touched him, he might die – or at least break bones. Instead the wrecking ball smashed against the windows, glass raining down to the street, allowing the wind to come in and caress Tony's bruised left cheek. "Put him out on display," Thunderball ordered and Piledriver grinned and picked him up, fingers squeezing his painful ribs. His grip didn't feel nearly firm enough on his clothes and flesh as Tony was lifted to his feet and shoved over to the window. An involuntary cry escaped his throat as vertigo threatened to upset his stomach; if he leaned back, he might fall, so he did everything but that, clinging the best he could to the massive hand holding him.

Beneath them, the Hulk had arrived and upon spotting Tony, started to make his way up along the building's side. On the ground, Thor was fighting Wrecker and someone – possibly Rogers, although not in his Captain America uniform – was trying to avoid a collision with Bulldozer.

The Hulk reached their floor, clinging onto the building, eyes narrowing. He was a couple dozen feet from Tony, too far to reach, and suddenly Piledriver lifted him off the floor, dangling him in the air above a fall that was sure to kill and too short for any kind of maneuvering even if he had an armor right here.

"Let him go," the Hulk ground out, his voice loud enough to make a few loose pieces of glass tremble free and fall to the ground – the way Tony was going to if Piledriver let go.

Tony looked at the villain's face, ready to negotiate, then saw a wicked, cruel smile twist his lips. "Whatever you say, hero," Piledriver said and his big fingers relinquished their hold of Tony, pushing him away for good measure. The sickening sensation of _falling_ tugged at him and Tony knew he was too far from the wall to grasp at it. Panic hit him as air whipped past him. Above, he saw the Hulk's green mass hit Piledriver, flinging him through a wall with a deafening roar – and then the green blur was moving, diving down after Tony, feet seeking purchase on the wall to help the gravity along.

He was so focused on his own imminent death that he didn't even reach up. His brain had frozen on the fact that this was it, there was nothing he could do, and when too-strong arms wrapped around his body and the fall turned into a grinding halt, it felt like he was still going to smash to the ground.

The Hulk groaned, one arm digging into the wall, concrete and surface materials raining on them both. Tony dug his fingers into the firm skin beneath them, trying to hold on, eyes closed because he couldn't keep them open even if he wanted to. In the next instant they were moving, defying gravity and Tony dared to look long enough to realize the Hulk had just kicked away from the building he had fallen from and was crashing into the one opposite from it.

Promptly closing his eyes, Tony avoided most of the rubble as the Hulk's body smashed through glass and wall, into another office. People shouted but all Tony could do was breathe and realize that he was still alive, the Hulk's arm squashing him against the wide chest in an unmistakable urge to keep him safe.

Opening his eyes and peering up, Tony was met by the green gaze. It was hard to tell if the Hulk was concerned, but Tony guessed he should inform the other that he was fine. Before he could, something smashed into the wall beside them and Tony felt himself being swung to the side then released, his body continuing with the motion until he hit a solid wall. Dazed, he slowly lifted his head and noticed he had rolled under someone's desk. The occupant of the cubicle wasn't there, thankfully, and Tony struggled to lift himself to his knees.

Pieces of wood and plastic flew past him and he ducked further under the table, getting a glimpse of the Hulk and Thunderball fighting. Electricity sparked, making lamps explode above them and the wrecking ball sent the Hulk back with a sound of air leaving the rage monster's lungs.

Tony knew there was no way the Hulk would lose but he still didn't like to see a hint of green blood on the wrecking ball's surface. Especially when said thing suddenly neared his face at a threatening velocity and Tony crawled out of the way, lying down flat on the floor as the table, cubicle and office supplies went flying above him.

"I really expected so much more from you, Iron Man," Thunderball mocked him as Tony tried to move away, yet his path was blocked in most directions and the wrecking ball was coming at him again, smashing into the floor with enough force to upset his already precarious balance. Support structures gave in beneath him and Tony felt himself being sucked in as the floor began to collapse.

"Hulk!" was the first and only thing he could think of shouting. On cue Thunderball went careening across the room and the Hulk arrived on the scene, holding something that looked like a support beam in his hands as a baseball bat. Letting the reinforced concrete drop, one large hand moved to fish Tony out of the hole in the floor and tucked him once again against the firm chest.

"Safe," the Hulk murmured and Tony agreed this was a bit better.

They moved back to the window and Tony didn't want to look down and see the drop beneath them. Instead of going down, the Hulk went up, jumping on top of the next building. It was almost like flying, only a fall came soon after, followed by the impact of landing and then they were off again, sailing through the air. Tony surmised that he might have actually enjoyed this if he hadn't been falling to his death just minutes ago.

If there were actual selection criteria, Tony didn't see any. The Hulk simply chose a building, higher than any of its neighbors, and deposited Tony on top of it. The Hulk took a step back once Tony was steady on his feet. "Stay," he ordered. "Safe," came the added comment and then the green shape was gone, jumping off the edge and Tony leaned forward, peering down. He was half-a-block away from where this had started and he had no idea how he would get back there. Turning around, ignoring the pains in his body, he scanned the empty roof and spotted the only standing structure – which was a door leading into the building. Walking over to it he tested the lock, finding the door firmly shut.

"Damn it," Tony swore and then began to look for something to help him break through it or pick the lock. There weren't many useful things on the roof and he was still kicking around it to discover _something_ when a thump reached his ears and he whirled around, taking cover behind the structure of the roof access door – which was the only thing to hide behind on the entire roof.

A familiar exhale of air soothed his nerves and Tony closed his eyes briefly, letting the air out of his lungs. He wouldn't admit how afraid he had been, for a moment, that one of the Wreckers had found him and he would be tossed off yet another building in the same day – within the same hour! He stepped out from his hiding place, finding the Hulk standing out in the open, looking around, clearly searching for him. The green eyes didn't light up, per se, but the Hulk definitely looked pleased when he saw Tony and moved over immediately, touching his face carefully.

"It will heal," Tony reassured him, although he still felt like his cheek bone may have been fractured. All this jumping around hadn't made him feel better and the aches were beginning to catch up with him. "Take me down?"

The Hulk nodded and Tony allowed himself to be lifted into a one-armed embrace before the Hulk took off again, climbing down in a good imitation of _King Kong_. Tony was thankful the other man didn't just jump down, knowing the Hulk could do that easily.

At street level, people were gathering, including the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. agents in full gear. The police seemed to be handling a safe retreat of civilians and keeping the press out of the way.

"Tony!" Rogers called out, coming closer. He was still in his 'civvies', his shield nowhere to be seen. It looked like he had done a fair bit of rolling around on the ground himself.

The Hulk froze, turning his body away so that Tony was shielded by it, growling at the approaching group. Tony didn't see them stop because he was too busy freeing himself from the firm embrace which was just a shade on the side of discomfort.

"Big guy, you can let me down now," Tony reassured the Hulk and slowly the arm loosened enough for him to hit the ground. Tony could have fallen to his knees and kissed the solid, beautiful asphalt but he still had some dignity left and pushed around the green body, ready to tell everyone he was okay.

Instead the Hulk shoved him back, hard, roaring loud enough to rattle the windows around them and start the alarms on a few parked cars. The Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. agents tensed, weapons lifted slightly in response to the Hulk's obvious threat.

"Stark," Romanoff started, "can you –"

The Hulk took a step forward, shoulders wide, muscles tense.

Thor pushed forward from the midst of people, Mjolnir in his grip and clearly ready to have another round with the Hulk, but Rogers reached out to hold him back before sparks could start flying, whispering something that made the God of Thunder lower his weapon and visibly stand back.

"Put your guns down!" Tony called out to the rest of them. "Jesus, fucking amateurs," he muttered and pushed around the Hulk again, only to have one large hand grab him by the shoulder and start moving him backwards again. "No!" he protested. "I'm fine; you don't need to protect me from them. They're friends, remember?" He didn't think the Hulk would forget whose side he was on but Tony had to admit the situation could get out of hand very fast if someone so much as twitched the wrong way.

The Hulk huffed and clenched his left hand into a fist while the right still attempted to keep Tony behind his body.

Tony, not about to be pushed aside with or without his suit, reached up and caught the Hulk's hair in his grip. "Look at me," he demanded and with a snarl the Hulk crouched lower, looking at him. Tony released the grip and instead ran his fingers through the dirt-covered strands that were so much like Bruce's but only… thicker and coarser, in a way. "I'm fine and these people are here to help us, okay? The Avengers are our team and those guys from S.H.I.E.L.D. are on our side. The bad guys are taken care of, right? Right?" Tony confirmed, looking at Rogers.

"Hulk smash Wreckers," the Hulk boasted.

"That he did," Rogers agreed. "We couldn't have done it without you, Hulk."

"See? All good. You're a hero," Tony smiled at the Hulk and lowered his hand, taking a step towards the others.

Apparently things weren't going to be simple today; a person in S.H.I.E.L.D. gear moved closer, probably a medic. Tony tried dismissing him, to signal that he didn't want to tend to his injuries in such an open place. The Hulk rushed forward at once and tried to strike down the medic who refused to back off. Only fast reflexes kept the man's head where it belonged and before Tony could even turn and start calming down the rage monster yet again, a shot rang out.

Everything froze for several seconds.

Tony looked at the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent who had fired his gun, as did a whole lot of other people. The rest were looking at the Hulk, who was now starting to look much angrier, green blood seeping out from a bullet hole in his chest.

What would have been a truly impressive roar began to escape the Hulk's throat and Tony whirled around, planting himself between the Hulk and the idiot who had shot him. "Wait, wait!" Tony shouted, catching the beast's attention and receiving an angry huff that made his hair stir. "They just got scared of you, and look, barely a scratch," Tony said, pointing at the Hulk's chest where the bullet was being pushed out of the wound that was healing rapidly. "Such a small weapon could barely make an scratch, right?"

"Puny weapon," the Hulk agreed, scowling, scratching at his now-healed chest.

"Yeah," Tony agreed. "Don't worry about it, and… please just stay put, okay? Trust me," he pleaded then turned back to the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, striding over to the man who still held his gun pointed at the Hulk. With an angry swipe of his hand, Tony tugged the weapon from the stricken agent's grasp and without looking at the gun more than once, took it to pieces with practiced ease. "Idiot," he hissed at the man, dumping the gun parts in his shaking arms, listening to most of them clatter to the ground. "Next time, I'll let him rip off your head. Are we clear?"

"Yes, Mr. Stark," the agent replied shakily.

Tony was fuming, in pain and tired. He had almost died several times today and he still had to make sure the Hulk wasn't going to throw a hissy fit. He didn't need jumpy, armed agents with shaky trigger fingers on top of all that.

"That was _way_ too close," Barton muttered.

"Maybe you should… keep talking to him," Rogers mused, nodding towards the Hulk who had stayed still, just as Tony had asked, but who didn't look at all happy.

Tony sighed and nodded, walking back over to their green teammate. "Hey," he called out. The Hulk turned his face away, as if offended by what had happened earlier, so Tony went with his gut and slid his hand around one of the thick fingers. That gained him the Hulk's attention and Tony peered up at him. "We're good, right? You're not hurt."

"Hulk smash," the Hulk informed him, then looked more closely at Tony. "No Shellhead. Tony got hurt without Shellhead."

Tony blinked. "Yeah, well… it's not that bad and I don't think I'm even bleeding so that's a win. I can't always wear the armor, you know that."

The Hulk huffed and sat down in the middle of the street. He didn't move to dislodge Tony's hold on his finger, however.

"It's a good thing I can count on you to have my back when I'm not in the suit," Tony mused – and meant it, too. He wished he had a camera to capture this moment for Bruce to see.

The green eyes studied his face and the Hulk nodded. He appeared calmer although he snarled every now and then when S.H.I.E.L.D. agents moved around, securing the Wrecking Crew and making sure there was nothing threatening the safety of the general population left in the area.

Eventually the other Avengers dared to approach them and Romanoff was the one to speak up: "Most of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s personnel has been a bit on edge after the Hulk almost destroyed the Helicarrier. However, what just happened was unprofessional and unacceptable. I'm sure Fury will make sure it won't happen again."

"It's not my feelings he has to worry about," Tony snapped back. "We got lucky today – I hope that doofus knows that."

"I'm certain he does," Rogers reassured him. "Thanks."

Tony shrugged, refusing to take all the credit. After all, it took the Hulk's agreement to make this work but he had a feeling they had crossed a couple of milestones today. "Let's go home," he suggested then and the Hulk got back to his feet, pulling his hand back so that Tony had to let go of it. "You know the way?" Tony asked and got only a grunt in return – after which the Hulk braced himself, jumped up high and at least started in the right direction. Tony decided they would have to trust him to make it back to the Mansion – or the Tower.

The others looked a bit more skeptical but Tony refused to look like he cared to hear their concerns. Instead he turned, trying to see whether they had a transport waiting, then noticed his driver in the crowd that had gathered behind the police tape. He walked over to the man, nodding tersely.

"Mr. Stark," the man greeted quickly then offered him his phone, suit jacket and tie. Tony took all of them and turned to leave. "Take the rest of the week off after the car's been towed to the garage," he called back over his shoulder and didn't stop to listen whether he got a reply.

Barton had found them a vehicle by the time he was done sliding into his jacket and they all got in, the police moving the road block to let them through. Tony sank into the uncomfortable seat, closing his eyes, wishing the day would be over.

"You know it was a close call today, right?" Rogers mused.

Tony forced his eyes open. "Some days… are going to be like this. And where the hell was your uniform, Captain?"

Rogers blushed slightly. "We were in too much of a hurry going after the Hulk once Bruce saw you were in danger – I didn't exactly have time to go change."

Tony huffed and closed his eyes again. "Some rescue party you are," he mused.

"You know, this is exactly what I –" Rogers cut himself off and didn't press on. Tony was too tired to go after the bait and chose not to comment. He wasn't fond of the topic and if he could somehow avoid it, he would take that chance.

There was no hiding the heavy looks the others gave him but as long as they stayed quiet, Tony wasn't about to complain. After all, he had one Bruce Banner to deal with and that was sure to suck the rest of the juice out of him before the day was over.

Maybe it would have been easier if he actually had fallen to his death.

_to be continued…_


	17. Chapter 16: Heart-stopping

**Author's note:** Some of the Tony/Hulk fondness responds to an **avengerkink** (LiveJournal) prompt by feriowind (Hulk/Tony, Kisses – Any fic where Tony gives kisses to the Hulk on the cheek, forehead, or nose, or maybe even eskimo kisses, I dunno! Just rot my teeth out with adorableness please! Would love it if the fic also included Hulk being really happy because no one's ever cared about him before. Would definitely not mind getting my heartstrings tugged too. And bonus points if the other Avengers freak out when they see Tony kiss the Hulk for the first time!)

* * *

**Chapter 16: Heart-stopping**

* * *

**Avengers Mansion  
Manhattan New York City, NY, USA**

There was still a bruise on Tony's left cheek. Well, to be literal, it reached from his temple across the entirety of his cheek and down to his jaw, but the edges were beginning to heal, slowly. In Bruce's eyes, the process was too slow, reminding him of the moment when he saw the Wrecking Crew's leader smack Tony across the face with the magical crowbar. He still remembered how it had felt, deep down. He could claim he had lost control, that the other guy had been too strong, but he knew that would be a lie.

Knowing he couldn't get there fast enough to keep Tony out of harm's way, he had handed the reins over to the monster he had tried to keep at a distance and control during all of their time together.

The Hulk hadn't disappointed him.

There was footage from the area, as well as S.H.I.E.L.D. reports and Avenger accounts. Bruce had heard of the shooting incident with an agent and was honestly shocked the situation hadn't ended in a bloodbath.

Tony had just smiled radiantly at his expression – and winced soon after as the pull on facial muscles pained him – declaring that he hadn't been worried. Later, though, Tony had confessed he had only been that scared a few times in his life, but the other guy had saved him, protected him and listened to him when it mattered most.

Bruce could only accept that what could have been a disaster had turned out okay. Fury hadn't called him in to lock away the beast, the other Avengers didn't try to avoid him, and Tony's injuries weren't worrisome. That, of course, didn't keep Bruce from spending hours staring at that body he knew so well by now, as if that alone would make it heal faster. He hated the reminders on Tony's skin, wishing they would vanish as fast as the bullet wound had from the other guy's chest.

"Hey," Tony's voice was drowsy and one clumsy hand reached towards him. Bruce guided it the rest of the way until Tony's fingers settled on his face. "Should be sleeping," Tony mumbled.

"It's almost time to wake up," Bruce argued softly, although he wasn't in a hurry to get out of bed. To see Tony sleep so deeply for the past few days – boosted by the painkillers – had helped him wind down from the transformation and he rather enjoyed these moments.

"Is not," Tony argued and rolled towards him, which made his hand plop down onto the pillow. His dark eyes were already falling shut, thick lashes resting against his cheeks. This way, Bruce could no longer watch the darkened, bruised area, creating an illusion that all was well in the world.

Well…

Tony's upper hand moved towards him again, unerringly, tugging at his hair to force him to lie back down and join him. Bruce acquiesced, settling down on the bed, feeling Tony's warm breaths on his skin. He saw a faint twist of his lover's lips – a smile of satisfaction – and leaned forward to briefly kiss them before closing his eyes and guessing he could nap a bit longer.

* * *

Bruce's life hadn't been enjoyable most of the time. There had been good years while doing research and allowing his brain to run wild, but that had been cut short by the gamma ray incident. Before that… well, suffice to say, Bruce didn't miss his childhood, or teenage years.

In a sense he had a lot in common with Tony, although clearly one of them had taken control of their life and thrived.

"How in hell did you enroll at MIT at the age of… what were you, twelve?" Bruce narrowed his eyes at the screen where he had idly been looking for something else but had stumbled upon this instead.

Tony laughed, the sound bright and honest. "I was a little more than twelve, and I guess family money never hurts. Mostly, though, I got in because I was me," he noted with self-satisfaction – although it may have had something to do with his current project and not the subject matter.

Bruce huffed. "Right…"

He was aware of Tony looking at him and moving closer, abandoning his work. "Come on, big guy," Tony teased. "What did you do when you were fifteen?"

"Felt truly unappreciated?" Bruce threw it out there, frowned at it and tried to recall what he had been doing at that age.

"I had my hair ruffled by girls who thought I was cute," Tony went on, probably not even listening to his answer. "I didn't correct them – and I was cute, make no mistake. Still am. And – this is the point, by the way: I swear I saw more boobs during my time there than any of the other guys," he concluded with a grin.

"You went to MIT for boobs?" Bruce had to smile, he couldn't help it.

"No," Tony shook his head, picking up a loupe from the table and raising it up to his eye, looking at the room through it. "But if the girls wanted to drag me around like a pet and didn't bother to shove me out the room while they were changing, I didn't mind. They treated me like a little brother. While I may have been insulted, just a little… I graduated before most of them and achieved something great in my life. And saw a _lot_ of boobs," he added, grinning again. He put the loupe down and regarded Bruce, the mischief disappearing from his face. "I got kicked around like a nerd for most of my childhood. Private school doesn't keep jockeys from becoming bullies when they see someone with a better brain than their own. MIT for me was… a chance to thrive."

"And –"

"Enough with the boobs, Banner," Tony warned, although his eyes were bright. "I had the silver spoon. I used it. Get over it and get over here," he finished and pulled Bruce closer and into a tender kiss that deepened quickly. Bruce allowed it, shifting his chair closer to Tony's, and felt the other man's hand move to his shoulder, then down, tweaking a nipple. Tony grinned against his mouth and Bruce proceeded to short-circuit his brain in all the ways he knew how, to make Tony forget any half-naked women he might have been thinking of. Not that he was offended or anything, but it didn't hurt to remind Tony of what he had gotten himself into – quite willingly, too.

Tony groaned into his mouth as Bruce dragged his nails along the nape of his neck, hard enough to leave a temporary mark but comfortable enough to make small shudders run down Tony's body.

"I think we might need a bedroom," Tony finally uttered, drawing back with some difficulty.

Bruce's hand remained on the back of his neck, running thoughtful patterns near the hairline, then reached up and ruffled the other man's hair. "If you say so."

Tony slapped his hand away. "By the way, what we talked about earlier? That was confidential. _No one_ will hear about it."

"Whatever you say, cutie," Bruce grinned, mimicking what he imagined one of the girls at MIT might have sounded like.

Tony lunged at him, probably planning on some kind of vengeance, but Bruce caught his jaw in a firm hold and kissed him instead, successfully forcing Tony to drop the matter in favor of some further making out.

* * *

It was good. _Really_ good.

When Bruce finally reached that conclusion, he almost bolted out the door, took the first bus away from the city and disappeared over the edge of the civilized world.

Several steadying breaths later he managed to quell that spark of panic. What would he be running from – and how far would he get before Tony was there, stopping him, eyes filled with hurt that he refused to put into words but were nonetheless carving a hole the size of his heart into Bruce's chest?

No, there was no running from this. First of all, there was no reason to, and secondly, when had good things begun to scare him almost as much as the bad? Before, it had been the fear of being found and persecuted – and the other guy coming out to wreak havoc wherever he happened to be. With S.H.I.E.L.D. offering him partial protection, the resources Tony was giving him to work with and his duties with the Avengers, his life was as good as he may have wanted it to be.

He had never dreamt of being with Tony, prior to meeting him – and falling for him. He had thought they might have an intelligent discussion should they ever meet – and should Tony ever get over his own ego to recognize another genius in the room.

He hadn't counted on how it would feel to have the other man's weight rest beside him in bed at night, the comforting glow of the arc reactor between their skins.

He hadn't thought he would feel so peaceful putting on his socks in the morning and having Tony shift behind him, leaning against his back as Bruce sat on the edge of the bed; Tony breathing him in and nuzzling his neck, kissing the skin and saying 'good morning' in that adorable morning voice.

Bruce certainly hadn't thought he would drop the sock he was working on in favor of twisting around and capturing Tony's lips with his own, running his fingers through Tony's hair as the other man tugged him back onto the bed so that they could just lie there, kissing and touching – and that it wouldn't be about sex but rather about being close to the one person who mattered. The open look in Tony's eyes as he just looked at Bruce's face, tracing his fingers across his features as if he was figuring out one of the unanswered mathematical questions of the world just by doing that…

It was good. _Really_ good – and Bruce didn't want to leave anymore.

* * *

"Do you remember what I told you about strutting?" Tony asked – an odd thing to say at that very moment but such a small circumstantial issue had never stopped Tony from saying whatever his mind came up with. It was another thing Bruce had grown used to, seeing as both of them could be tossing various topics around in their heads at the same time and the one they ended up talking about wasn't necessarily the one that fit the situation.

"You think I should strut in bed?" Bruce raised an eyebrow, letting out a nervous laugh, and if he hadn't been holding himself up with his arms he would have probably started wringing his hands. Not because it made him truly nervous, thinking of the first time Tony had told him to strut, but because he wondered what he was doing wrong at this moment – what he could be doing _differently_.

To comprehend and decipher all the hidden meanings, innuendos and references required more brainpower than he was willing to invest in at this very moment. After all, Tony lay beneath him, naked and flushed, and Bruce was equally nude, his faint arousal making him work twice as hard to keep his composure.

Yes, Tony would ask him to strut in bed – that made sense. It wasn't a demand, merely a suggestion. Another hint that Tony wanted them to move on from their established comfort zone. Bruce wished it were that easy but he guessed they wouldn't be getting very far, ever, if they went at Bruce's pace.

"Something like that," Tony replied, voice lower – but not obviously seductive; like he was just going to throw it out there, for future reference. His tone was real and honest, no performance or bravado, and that was why Bruce leaned down to kiss him, pressing his weight a bit closer. Tony's mouth quirked and his breaths grew hot as he moved his mouth to the side, closer to Bruce's ear. He could count each inhale and exhale, their rhythm irregular as they adopted the pace of their hips moving together.

It might not happen today, or tomorrow, but Bruce knew he was getting there, whatever Tony wanted to call it.

* * *

Just another day in the lab.

Tony was currently hiding beneath his desk, waiting for the automatic sprinklers to stop drowning everything in water. The fire was gone, the explosion contained, and judging by the sounds, Bruce was going to be okay – once he de-Hulked.

Deeming it was time, Tony emerged from his temporary shelter and looked around the lab. Half of it was almost completely obliterated into blown up pieces and melted parts. The Hulk stood in the midst of it, growling at the sprinklers and flicking away rubble that had stuck to his skin.

"Hey, big guy!" Tony called out, approaching carefully.

The Hulk turned his head sharply and Tony stopped – only for a micro-second, though. Once he was certain the Hulk wouldn't smash him out of sheer annoyance, Tony kept walking, treading carefully in the midst of broken lab equipment. He would have to ask what Bruce had been up to – and then politely ask him to do it in a safer location next time.

For the time being, the current situation warranted his full attention. "Let me look at you," Tony insisted, blinking through the water. This was getting ridiculous. "J.A.R.V.I.S., shut off the sprinklers!"

Nothing happened.

"Great," Tony muttered then looked at the ceiling and jumped on top of a table, yanking a partially blackened panel loose and found a valve, managing to turn off a portion of the sprinklers in their vicinity. The Hulk let out a sound of appreciation and watched as Tony descended back to the water-covered floor. There were a good four inches of it rippling around, which would be a bitch to clean up if the drains didn't work for some reason; plumbing wasn't Tony's favorite part of engineering, but he wouldn't let others touch his lab either.

"Okay, back to business," Tony said, snapping his fingers as he gazed up at the Hulk. "Are you hurt? Now, I know what you're thinking, because you're a tough cookie, but there may have been some really nasty substances in the tubes and it might take some time to heal."

"Puny Banner," the Hulk growled unhappily.

"I bet he got a face full of it," Tony grimaced.

The Hulk huffed and looked at himself. "Hulk is strong," he declared.

"Strong, nigh invincible, but please humor me, big guy," Tony said and moved much closer, touching the green skin carefully, searching for injuries that might need a little help to heal. The Hulk let him do it, lifting an arm when he yanked at it and spreading his fingers as Tony checked each of his hands.

Once satisfied, Tony gave the other man a relieved smile. "All limbs accounted for, we're good to go," he joked.

The green eyes narrowed then one big hand reached over and touched the drenched shoulder of Tony's shirt. "Injured?" he asked. "Tony injured?"

"No, I'm fine. I was over there," he motioned towards the other end of the lab.

Appearing somewhat unconvinced, the Hulk went over a quite similar round of checking him over, with some excessive poking that made Tony grimace or chuckle depending on the spot. "No blood," the Hulk decided, then sniffed and growled at the lab in general. "Smells bad!"

"It does smell, yeah," Tony agreed. "Chemicals. But at least we're okay and I'll turn off the water so that we don't drown. Wanna help?"

And that was how Tony ended up sitting on the Hulk's shoulders, manually shutting off each of the sprinklers. A few times when the Hulk got a spray of water in the face he growled and went to punch at the ceiling, but Tony managed to avoid any further destruction of the lab. Once the artificial deluge was over, Tony started sliding down from the Hulk's shoulders and kissed his forehead in passing, tugging gently at the wet hair. "We make a good team."

"Good together," the Hulk agreed, then suddenly appeared almost sheepish, which for a creature of his size was awkward as hell. "Hulk likes," he sort of mumbled and Tony reached out to take a couple fingers in his hand in a gesture that almost resembled hand-holding.

As much as Bruce treated the Hulk like a separate person, Tony knew it was important that he get along with both of them – and clearly the Hulk wasn't completely averse to his company. "You liked it?" Tony asked. He got a cautious nod in return and reached up again, petting the wet hair with some difficulty.

The Hulk suddenly sat down on the wet floor, making Tony grin, let go of the powerful fingers and stepped between his thick legs. "Look, I don't know if you know this, but me and Bruce… Banner," he corrected, already seeing a expression of distain on the massive face. "I like him a lot, and I think he likes me."

There was another nod, which may or may not have made this whole explosion worth it. "Puny Banner likes Tony." The green eyes met his gaze. "Hulk likes Shellhead."

"You like Iron Man?" Tony arched an eyebrow then pouted playfully, still combing the dark hair with his fingers since that seemed to be something that made the rage monster purr – without an actual purring sound. "What about me? Don't you like me? I think we're friends and I like you. But I get it if you can't be my friend because Banner –"

"Talk too much," the Hulk complained.

Tony laughed. "I do, don't I? But you listen well. Maybe we should trade: you talk, I listen?"

The Hulk huffed. "Hulk likes Tony, too. Shellhead fights with Hulk." It seemed he understood the concept of fighting alongside someone and fighting against them, which was good.

"You know it's me in the suit, right?" Tony asked to make sure. "I'm Shellhead. God, that's an awful name, we should change it." The Hulk growled. "Or not!" Tony quickly covered his mistake. "So, you like me." He leaned a bit closer and one of the big, green arms suddenly rose around him, as if inviting him in. Tony knew it could snap him in two, too, but he wasn't too worried about that; all those months the Hulk had spent protecting him on the battlefield couldn't and wouldn't be undermined during such a calm moment as this.

"Okay, so we've… established that we like each other, which is good," Tony went on after a bit. He really couldn't shut up, and it wasn't as if he and the big guy got to spend a lot of quality time together. That was why he had to make the best of it while the Hulk was sitting in a huge puddle of water and Tony was drenched to the bone.

The arm hugged him a bit closer, and that was the first time Tony actually registered it as a hug. He shifted his arms and looped them around the thick neck to return the gesture for a bit, feeling the muscles relax. It was amazing, almost like embracing a wild animal, although the Hulk was so much more; very few people were able to just get close to him like this.

Tony pressed a small kiss on his neck, thinking it would go unnoticed but he felt a rumble rise in the Hulk's chest in response.

"Hulk likes that."

For whatever reason, that made sense. As angry as the Hulk was most of the time, easily provoked and hard to control, he was a living being as well – regardless of what Bruce said on his worst days. The Hulk needed some love, too, and since Tony was already in a relationship with the Hulk's other half, it was his duty to provide some comfort to him as well, right?

Pulling back slightly, Tony looked at the green eyes and smiled fondly. "Can I ask you something?"

"What?" the Hulk asked.

"Has anyone ever kissed you?"

The Hulk frowned and for a moment Tony feared he didn't understand the concept. That might end this discussion in a very tense silence. However, the big guy spoke up soon after: "Hulk smash." It wasn't said with the usual bravado, nor did it look like he was going to do any smashing in the next heartbeat. It was more like a very apt description of what he usually did.

"And you smash very well," Tony nodded, "but that doesn't exclude kissing – or other things, but I asked you about kissing, so…"

Another frown, as if Tony weren't speaking the same language. Tony was of the opinion that the Hulk was smart and understood anything anyone said, although he had seen many people talking down to him as if he were a child with some kind of disability.

"No one kisses Hulk," Hulk finally said. "Hulk smash."

"But you said you liked it? When I did this," Tony went on and landed a small peck on the Hulk's forehead.

An appreciative rumble rose from the wide chest. "Hulk likes kisses."

Tony smiled. "Who doesn't? I think you've just scared away all the candidates with all the smashing." Tony knew he was just swiping at the surface with that comment; he wouldn't have gotten up close and personal with the Hulk before he and Bruce got involved – or at least not before their first battle together. He had seen what this guy was capable of and he wasn't going to act like there had been a chance, in the past, for the Hulk to experience something like this.

"Tony not scared," the Hulk noted then, looking at him quizzically, as if trying to solve a puzzle.

"I trust you," Tony informed him, leaning closer, feeling his nose rub against the wider green one. "You're not going to smash me if I kiss you again, right?"

The Hulk shook his head, very carefully, as if thinking he might hurt Tony when he was so close with such a simple movement. It made their noses rub together more firmly, which was kind of sweet, and Tony pulled back after a moment, placing both his hands on the Hulk's face.

"You're my friend," Tony said. "I care about you, just like I care about Bruce. We fight together, and we live together. Never forget that, big guy, even if you get a little angry – or a lot angry. Okay?" And then he leaned in and pressed his lips to the big green ones, feeling the sharp inhale. It was just a dry little peck, but the sensation was as if he had been pushed off another building, making his legs a bit weak and his body realizing he had just done something amazing.

He pulled back and watched as the Hulk slowly touched his lips where Tony's had just been, then a smile made them curve and it was perhaps the happiest, most serene expression Tony had ever seen on the Hulk's face.

It passed, however, as the Hulk's eyes moved past his shoulder. The arm still around Tony tightened slightly as if in alarm and Tony looked around, finding Romanoff standing in the doorway, staring at them. It wasn't horror on her face, not really, but there was definitely something she wasn't able to hide even with all her training.

Footsteps drew near and Rogers jogged down the hall, stopping at the lab's door beside her. "There was an alarm," he said needlessly. "You guys okay?"

"Yeah," Tony called back, drawing away from the Hulk with a gentle pat on his shoulder. "Bruce Hulked-out and the big guy's fine. Just a little experiment gone wrong."

"Is that what you call it?" Romanoff asked before snapping her mouth shut and turning away, striding back down the hallway. Tony didn't think she should be all that shocked, considering whom Tony was in a relationship with. Part of him felt particularly good about being able to shake her a little.

Rogers looked after Romanoff with a puzzled expression then peered into the lab again. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah," Tony nodded, then turned to look just in time to see the Hulk shrinking back into a very dazed-looking scientist. "Hey, babe," Tony cracked a grin. "You okay?"

Bruce started, as if coming back to the moment. "Oh my God, Tony, are you okay?!" His eyes went wide so fast it was almost comical, if not for the tension caused by sudden panic and fear taking over his body.

"I'm fine," Tony dismissed his concerns and helped Bruce to his feet. "I was further off and sought a very professional refuge under my table over there. The other guy saved your skin, I imagine."

Bruce looked at himself, noting the tattered, wet remnants of his clothes. He looked at Tony then, still concerned. "He didn't go wild?"

"No," Tony reassured him. "He helped me stop the sprinklers and we… well, I'll tell you about it later," he promised, seeing as Rogers was still hanging around. Tony knew that discussion was best had behind closed doors.

"Okay," Bruce agreed, still looking a bit out of it.

"Great," Tony snapped his fingers, slapped his hands together and promptly marched to the door of the lab, forcing Rogers to retreat out of the way. "J.A.R.V.I.S.!" he bellowed in the next second. "Where are you holed up? I don't pay you to _not_ manage potential hazard zones!"

_"I apologize, sir. The explosion knocked out my sensors in this floor and I have been operational only for the last three point four minutes."_

"Huh," Tony shrugged, counting back. "We'll have words later," he noted then, returning into the lab.

_"Of course, sir,"_ he heard the AI's voice from the hallway. Most of the sensors and speakers in the lab were probably ruined. _"I assume you want to restrict the footage of your latest encounter with the Hulk for your own use only?"_

"Until I say differently," Tony nodded along then patted Bruce on the back as the scientist gave him a very concerned look. "I told you, everything went fine! We sat down, talked a little, got close and comfortable. He didn't tear any limbs or do any smashing."

"You're still going to tell me about it – in detail," Bruce insisted.

"Of course," Tony replied – and how could he not? After Bruce was done freaking out at the news – there was no doubt he would do just that – perhaps he would consider letting the other guy out more so that he could better integrate with the Avengers. And hang out with Tony. Not just for the kissing, but for the intimacy the big guy had clearly missed out on and which might make him a little less angry in the long run.

_to be continued…_


	18. Chapter 17: Offbeat

**Author's notes:** The final scene in bed is much inspired by this amazing piece of art (see it on Tumblr: brilcrist . tumblr . c0m /post/32378807184) by the talented _**Brilcrist**_.

Also, what Tony does with his arc reactors in this chapter (and possibly in the future of the series) is completely head-canon until someone tells me otherwise. (I believe he has a separate arc reactor in his newer suits, as might be apparent from most of the other parts in this series – we've kind of seen evidence of that in _The Avengers_ when he powered up the suit before actually getting inside it.) The idea that he can tap into the one in his chest while in the suit is just something I thought to be a cool idea – and something ridiculously reckless in Tony's usual style.

* * *

**Chapter 17: Offbeat**

* * *

The call to assemble came just as unexpectedly as always. This time all of the Avengers were currently at the Avengers Mansion, so all they had to do was suit up and wait for further instructions.

Tony had yet to put on his suit and he was currently watching Bruce change his clothes. They had been trying out new materials and designs for a pair of pants that might actually withstand the stretch in both directions of transformation, yet to actually endure the ensuing battle seemed to be the bigger issue. "We need to do further testing," Tony noted as Bruce tugged up the newest prototype. "See how this version handles the heat. I'm kind of amazed you're not running around naked most of the time."

Bruce gave him a look, sliding on a shirt that was shortly going to become a lost cause – his chest and shoulders changed so much more than his hips, as Tony had come to notice. "While I appreciate the effort – and certainly the outcome – are you sure you're not doing all these tests just to get more time with the other guy?" Bruce asked.

Bruce had taken the news of Tony's minor cuddling with the Hulk just about as well as Tony had expected. The freak-out had been minimal and Tony had stood his ground, firmly; the other guy wasn't going to hurt him and perhaps a little social interaction would help him cope with some of the triggers that made him unreliable and dangerous on the field.

"You think he'll be less of a monster in the eyes of others if he's seen being nice to you?" Bruce had asked.

"It can't hurt," Tony had replied.

Once he accepted that concept – not constantly arguing that his own feelings could _possibly_ be influencing the other guy – Bruce switched tactics and began with wry teasing, implying that Tony had ulterior motives. The word 'cheating' hadn't come up yet but Tony sensed it was on the tip of Bruce's tongue – either seriously or laced with humor.

Bruce wasn't one to admit that he and the Hulk were the same person – and Tony was pretty sure they were two separate beings, even if they shared the same flesh, sort of. However, Tony wouldn't go as far as to call it 'cheating' and that's why he hoped Bruce wouldn't actually call it that either. Tony wanted to forge a friendship with their big, green teammate and part of him knew Bruce's consent was essential for that to happen.

Now, Tony just rolled his eyes, not admitting he had ulterior motives of any kind. If he did, he certainly didn't call them that.

"Did Steve say what it is we're going to be fighting today?" Bruce moved on from the unanswered question.

"No," Tony recalled, "but I'm pretty sure he implied we need the big guy."

Bruce sighed heavily. That he was suiting up, sort of, meant that he was going to join them without an argument, but that didn't mean he liked it. Tony decided that some positive reinforcement was in order and stepped over to the other man, laying one hand on the small of Bruce's back, feeling his muscles beneath the thin t-shirt.

"Hey," Tony breathed out, pressing close.

Bruce looked up at him, the tired expression of resignation vanishing; instead his face was alert even if his eyes were soft, body reacting to Tony's proximity by relaxing slightly. Tony smiled, imagining that he could feel the other man's body heat through the undersuit he already wore.

"We should go," Bruce said finally but didn't move a muscle in the direction of the door. "You know, in case more details of the mission arrive."

"J.A.R.V.I.S. will let us know," Tony replied, voice soft and low, intimate.

"_There are no further details yet,"_ the AI offered, reacting to his words. "_However, I am tracking several emergency calls and police channels; it would appear there is an attack of some kind in Chicago, Illinois. There may be lizards involved."_

"Lizards," Tony raised an eyebrow. "Another mad scientist had a lab accident and released his own private petting zoo?"

"_There is no actual data to confirm that assumption, sir, but that private petting zoo has already killed sixteen people – most of whom, according to first responders, look like victims of a shark attack."_

"Let's go fishing, then," Tony decided. "I'll race the Quinjet to Chicago. Losers buy supper tonight."

Bruce smiled – an expression which might have been seen as a grimace, but Tony knew better. "Is your armor shark-proof?"

"It has underwater capabilities, should they be needed, but I'm not actually considering taking on Jaws," Tony mused, calculating the odds of such an encounter in his head. "I think my chances of survival would be pretty good," he decided then. "I might even make you a necklace from all the teeth I collect."

Bruce cringed. "I'm sure the other guy would appreciate such a gift… or Thor."

"What, you don't want to get a shark teeth necklace from me?" Tony tried to appear insulted and scandalized. "I will have you know, most people would be thrilled to carry such a token of my amazing heroics!"

"It's just not my style," Bruce offered, a genuine smile on his face this time, and no one in the universe – anyone in their right might, anyway – could blame Tony for pressing even closer to Bruce and kissing him. It wasn't deep or dirty, or particularly wet, but he enjoyed the closeness, his hand still on the small of Bruce's back and the other man's hands slowly returned the favor, caressing his sides and falling down to his hips. It was no secret, really, that Bruce liked touching his ass.

"No shark teeth, then," Tony murmured against Bruce's lips after a while. "Might get you something else, though."

"As long as they're not souvenirs from the battlefield," Bruce insisted and caught his lips one last time, almost insistently, before pulling back.

Tony made a note in some corner of his mind to make sure that he found something on the battlefield, one of these days, that Bruce would absolutely love to receive as a gift – just to prove him wrong.

Bruce led the way out of the room, Tony checking the news on his phone one last time, to make sure he hadn't missed anything big. A steady stream of information was still coming in but it seemed no one had actually called S.H.I.E.L.D. to the scene – which meant they might have to deal with belligerent local authorities once they got to Chicago. Tony usually didn't care about that if there was a job that needed to be done, but Rogers had a thing for cooperating with the locals and making things more difficult than they needed to be.

The others were already gathered in a room which they had dubbed as the 'war room'. No one said anything when Tony and Bruce arrived, being smarter than that. Then again, Tony had noticed there had been fewer comments about their activities in general. It was too much to hope they would have just gotten used to him and Bruce being together, so Tony might have to investigate this new approach should it start troubling him.

For now, he was content to enjoy his man in peace.

"Stark, I thought I told everyone to suit up," Rogers commented.

Tony really tried to bite back a remark. "I'll already be half-way to Chicago before you're done with your pre-flight check," he noted. "What's on the day's menu?"

Rogers still didn't look happy but Tony wasn't here for his approval. "There's something brewing in Chicago. Director Fury contacted me ten minutes ago with similar intel, although S.H.I.E.L.D. isn't officially involved. What is clear, however, is that people are dying, more are in danger and the local forces aren't able to handle it."

"You knew about it before Fury called you?" Tony frowned.

Rogers nodded – then flushed slightly, if possible. "I asked J.A.R.V.I.S. to monitor anything that might suggest a job for the Avengers. He said he's already compiling such data for Iron Man, so…"

He should have known, but that his AI had alerted Rogers before Tony himself found out was something he was definitely going to talk to J.A.R.V.I.S. about as he flew to Chicago. For now, he didn't bother saying anything since he had, more or less, offered his resources to help the Avengers – which seemed to include his AI.

"So, we don't have any real idea of what is waiting for us in Chicago?" Barton clarified, checking his bow as he spoke.

"No," Rogers admitted, "but there have been unsettling reports of –"

"Above-ground shark attacks," Tony shot in. "Hundred bucks says a crazy scientist is involved."

"No one's going to bet against that," Romanoff noted. "There's always a scientist involved, and most of them are… well…" She didn't finish, but gave Tony a pointed look.

"Hey!" Tony frowned. "He's a scientist too," he pointed at Bruce.

"We should get moving," Rogers interrupted them before the argument could go on. "Stark, suit up."

"Aye, aye, Captain," Tony saluted him briskly then marched out to the armory.

"Stark," Romanoff's voice interrupted him before Tony could actually have the suit assembled, and he looked at her standing in the doorway.

"Did you forget something?" Tony asked. He had assumed the rest had already moved to the underground hangar and taken off.

"Pre-flight check," she shrugged. Tony grinned. "There's something I need to say to you," she went on, wiping the expression from Tony's face; nothing good could follow those words.

"Yeah?" Tony asked, stepping up to the slightly raised platform. Robotic arms shifted above and around him but remained still, seeing as he wasn't yet in position to get into the suit.

Her eyes were hard as they met his. "I don't know what you're playing at, with the Hulk," she started.

Tony instantly knew she meant the little scene in the destroyed lab. How much had she seen? How long had she stood there before the Hulk caught a whiff of her presence? "I'm not sure it's any of your business," Tony noted, voice hard.

"You may be able to get away with it when it comes to Banner," Romanoff noted, "but the Hulk is a different matter entirely. You're playing with fire, regardless of what you think you're trying to achieve."

"Just because he almost killed you once doesn't mean the big guy hasn't proven himself a member of this team," Tony shot back, stepping down from platform. "He deserves a place among us, just like Bruce does."

"And when it all blows up in your face?" Romanoff asked calmly, raising an eyebrow. "You're being yourself, painfully so; biting off more than you can chew. Best case scenario is that you'll end up hurting only one of their feelings – and that it will be Banner. Worst –"

"You think I'm trying to get into the Hulk's pants?" Tony asked, putting it out there in case they weren't on the same wavelength. Romanoff didn't flinch, didn't even blink, but Tony had seen her composure slip before, just slightly. She was nervous, and that she had sought out to talk to him about it proved it hadn't been just his imagination either.

Tony kept meeting her silent, defiant look which revealed nothing and suggested detachment, although he knew she was feeling anything but detached right now. Certainly she wasn't concerned for Tony's life, but perhaps she wanted the Avengers to stay together – or thought that Tony's actions would bring the Hulk's wrath upon them all.

"I know what I'm doing," Tony finally said, turning towards the platform again.

"That's not enough," she snapped. "You're playing with the feelings of one of the strongest beings on Earth."

"And what are you afraid will happen?" Tony asked, one foot raised to the platform as he twisted his body around to look at her. "That one day you'll try to jab another needle in my neck and I'll unleash the Hulk and make him finish the job?"

Romanoff's face was stoic, as always, but Tony had seen how nervous she still got at the Hulk's proximity. He guessed that had he been in her place on the Helicarrier… He sometimes regretted he hadn't been there. Most likely he wouldn't have been able to make a difference, but had that ever stopped him from trying?

"When that happens," Romanoff finally stated, voice low to suggest that whatever came next was a threat, "S.H.I.E.L.D. won't hesitate to step in to prevent things from escalating."

"Is that Fury's stand?" Tony asked, not backing down. "Or are you just assuming that's what he'll do?" Had she informed Fury of what she had seen, or was that a card she would play if she ever needed leverage against Tony? And, more importantly, what _would_ Fury do if he found out?

Generally Tony wouldn't have cared, but the Hulk was on top of many watch lists still, regardless of his cooperation with the Avengers, and he wasn't stupid enough to think that his closeness with Bruce wasn't making a lot of people nervous.

Romanoff didn't reply, simply turned and disappeared down the hall towards the hangar.

"_Sir?"_ J.A.R.V.I.S. spoke up after a while. Tony blinked out of it, turning away from the doorway and stepping up to the platform.

"Keep an eye on Agent Romanoff's communications," he ordered.

"_Yes, sir."_

Tony looked at the doorway as he spread his feet slightly and opened his arms, hearing the robotic arms coming to life. His eyes stared at the empty space Black Widow had vacated until the faceplate snapped down in front of his face and it was time to head off to fight another crazy villain.

* * *

**Chicago, IL, USA**

Chicago was going the whole nine yards when it came to bad guys creating chaos on the streets. Not only were there some kind of lizard-shark hybrids, which really liked chewing through anything in their path – preferably things with a pulse – but there was also a giant robot. The two probably weren't related and Tony had no clue where either of them had come from in the first place. Hardly from the same lab, but who knew; mad scientists could be versatile, too.

"_Stark, you've got the robot situation under control, right?"_ Rogers asked over the comm.

"Sure," Tony replied, wondering how he had been saddled with the big piece of junk and everyone else got to tangle with the lizard-sharks. Well, he understood the logic since he should be able to shut this thing down in minutes and then join the others, and there were a lot of those shark-toothed reptiles running amok, endangering the civilian population.

"_Tony…"_ Bruce started.

"Just let the big guy out to play," Tony reassured him. "I'll be with you guys in a flash." He wasn't sure why Bruce was concerned, but he also knew they needed to deal with the hybrids that had a now-established appetite for blood – and there was no way Bruce could ignore that threat.

"_Just be careful,"_ Bruce told him.

"_Couldn't you have this talk in private?"_ Barton asked. "_Besides, there are three of those lizard things climbing towards me so I think Iron Man's pretty safe compared to the rest of us."_

"You heard the man," Tony said, knowing Bruce was listening. "What is that tin-can going to do to me anyway? It's probably some cheap knock-off of my tech and I'll be digging through its circuit boards soon enough."

Bruce didn't reply, but not soon after a very Hulk-like roar rose in the distance, forcing Tony to deduce that the Hulk was finally on the scene and had found something to smash.

He turned his attention to the robot that was steadily proceeding towards the city center, creating chaos with each step as it stomped on cars and small structures alike. People were screaming and running for cover, the police trying to make a difference but failing completely; bullets didn't do anything to the robot and Tony flew in closer to investigate, giving it a test-blast with one of the repulsors.

"_The surface appears to be absorbing most of the blast," _J.A.R.V.I.S. noted.

"Scan it. Find a weak spot to tear through and break the exterior," Tony followed the robot, waiting for J.A.R.V.I.S. to gather data. His eyes kept tracing every movement, looking for seams and joints – anything to exploit and make this quick and painless. It seemed, however, that the design was good at protecting the robot's insides, although that made its movements clumsier and slower.

Tony fired at it again, just to see what it would do against missiles. The explosions went off as expected but the robot seemed unaffected. It did, however, stop and turn to look at him.

"_No weak spots detected,"_ the AI announced.

"Let's create some, then," Tony noted, diving to the side and grabbing a wire that hung across the street. With a yank he tore one end free from a light post, the banner hanging from the wire flapping wildly in the air. The robot, clearly not seeing the danger, began to approach, and Tony weaved between its legs and then to the side. The wire tightened around one limb and Tony pulled, hard as he could.

For a moment it seemed the other light pole might snap in two, but the robot lost its balance before that, tipping to the side and then forward, crashing down with all its massive weight and zero grace. Letting go of the wire, Tony flew closer, giving it another taste of his weapons.

"_Sir, the robot's energy absorption is still operational. There is also a critical increase in its surface temperature."_

"Yeah?" Tony glanced at the readings on the HUD. "Let's turn up the heat, then." He switched controls and hovered still, aiming, then fired the chest RT. The light was blindingly beautiful, as always. He could feel the power thrum against his ribs, as if the arc reactor in his chest were participating. The beam of destructive force hit the robot square in the chest as the machine was attempting to roll onto its back – as if that would help it get up – and he saw the smooth surface beginning to change color to an almost ridiculous shade of red. At any moment it would begin to melt –

Warnings flashed before his eyes, almost blinding him.

"_Sir, a backlash of energy is imminent."_

"Fuck," Tony managed before the red glow on the robot's surface slammed out, whiting out his vision and making the HUD blink out in order to protect his eyes.

Windows broke everywhere within a two-block radius. The streets directly in line with the robot were swept clean of everything that could be moved, pushing vehicles, stands, café furnishings and people aside as if they were garbage.

Tony, who had been hovering quite near by in the air, found himself flung back as the armor shut down in order to prevent any further damage – but instead of hitting the street below, he felt an immense pressure around his right leg before he was yanked to the side. The HUD came back on and gave him visual just before he met the nearest building, face first, smashing through the wall with a force that would have grinded bones to ashes. Inside the suit, he felt it and knew there were going to be a lot of bruises once this was over.

Before he could actually contemplate that further, he was already moving backwards, being swung through the air and across the street – only to be slammed backside-first into the opposite building. Alarms beeped around him as the suit powered up again, only to inform him that the damage was extensive. Tony thought he might be tasting blood.

The grip tightened, if possible, making metal groan around his leg. He was pulled back out of the building, no doubt to be smashed into the first one again, but the repulsors came back online just in time and he fired at what was holding him, to distract it or loosen its hold enough to slip free.

It was a hand, Tony noticed, once free of building structures and dust. The robot had grabbed him while still lying on the ground, determined to finish him off. Tony fired at it again, a yell escaping his lungs as if that would help – then he began to drop down, too fast for it to be only gravity. The hand was still holding him and smashed him down into the street, asphalt cracking under the force.

Before Tony could even calculate whether holding onto the ground might work or not, he was hoisted back up – only to be slammed down again.

"_Sir, armor integrity is severely compromised. Immediate action to secure user safety is advisable."_

"I know!" Tony roared with actual pain as he hit the street again. He wasn't just imagining the taste of blood anymore.

The next time he came up, he fired at the robot with all he had – or, to be more accurate, with any weapon that would respond. The motion to pulverize him briefly ceased and he furiously worked to override most of the alarms to gain access to the chest RT; it may not have worked last time, but that had never stopped him from trying again.

"Come on, you piece of junk," he muttered. "J.A.R.V.I.S., I need the chest RT operational right now!"

"_Armor arc reactor has taken damage and cannot maintain necessary charge long enough to fire,"_ J.A.R.V.I.S. informed him.

"Then access the chest piece," Tony ordered.

"_Sir, that is ill-advised. The suit has taken extensive damage and redirecting power from the chest arc reactor will compromise –"_

"Do it!" Tony shouted as he was smashed back down again. "We'll overload it. Its surface cannot withstand that much energy at once without overheating and causing internal damage."

He felt mechanical parts moving against his chest. In the already constricted pace, it felt like something was trying to push into him – which was exactly what was happening, technically. This was a failsafe when all else failed; the armor's own arc reactor was almost burnt out and while it still functioned, it couldn't deliver he blow he needed. The arc in his chest, however, could deliver the extra kick and once the suit connected with it, Tony literally felt the charge going through his chest cavity.

The HUD blinked, either from the damage or the new burst of power. Tony took a deep breath, prepped the chest RT and once he was in position, he let 'er rip. The sensation was intense and he swore he could feel the impact as the repulsor ray hit its target, the robot twisting slightly, mechanical fingers moving, their hold slipping, and this time there was no backlash of energy.

Tony fell again, hard, but this time it was only gravity that took him down and not the robot's grip. The HUD was flickering and J.A.R.V.I.S.'s voice distorted and vanished. Tony knew he had to get out of the suit, to disconnect the arc reactor in his chest from the armor before it shorted out.

Manual armor release was another failsafe and he soon remembered why he was so keen on _not_ having to do it himself. He tugged off the gloves, then the pieces around his arms, going for the chest next. Tony let out a pained gasp when the chest plate finally released the arc reactor and he could breathe properly again, heart thrumming and cold sweat covering his skin.

Struggling out of the rest of the armor, he cringed as he went to remove the right leg's pieces; they were bent and broken, showing where the mechanical fingers had maintained their hold. The repulsor in his boot was spitting sparks, burning his fingers as he attempted to bend some of the pieces of metal into a better position so that he could push them off.

Tony looked up briefly, checking his surroundings. The streets were deserted; the robot lay quietly on the ground; the sounds of battle against the lizard-sharks were almost too distant to hear.

Focusing back on the task at hand, Tony finally managed to wriggle enough to pull his leg free of the last piece of armor. After that was done, he lay down for a moment, feeling out of sorts. It was entirely possible he had a concussion and hooking up his chest arc reactor to the suit hadn't been the best idea he'd ever had. It had done the trick, though, and he could work on making the connection a bit more stable in the future. For the time being, he needed to get in contact with his team, haul the armor back to New York City and find an ice pack or three.

Rubble and metal whined somewhere beside him as a heavy mass shifted.

Tony's eyes shot open and he was up on his feet so fast he almost fell back down from the sheer shock of it. There wasn't time, however, as the robot started moving, slowly rolling to its front, then to its knees, and it was only a matter of time before it would try to get back to its feet. Either it was self-repairing or Tony had just knocked it out while almost frying his own insides.

The robot seemed disoriented, attempting to balance itself, then finally its glowing eyes landed on him. Tony swallowed, taking a step back. There was no way he would get any piece of his armor working in time, the arc reactor in his chest already feeling like it needed to be recalibrated and his body going into mild shock from the beating he had just received.

All he could do, really, was to dodge the hand when it started moving towards him, evading it to the best of his ability until he got outside its range. He needed to get in contact with one of the Avengers; the Hulk or Thor could take this thing down.

The sound of sirens cut through the air and a lone police car curved around a building, stopping at the nearest intersection when it noticed the giant robot on all fours on the ground. Tony felt like shouting at them to stop gawking and get the hell out, but before he could even open his mouth, his body was hit by what felt like a wall of steel; the robot hand smacked him like he was a fly, sending him flying.

His back slammed painfully against the roof of the police car, the momentum carrying him across the smooth surface and over it until he dropped to the ground behind the vehicle. Tony's world zoomed in and out; he saw boots, two pairs of feet, then they were gone. He couldn't hear a thing, ears ringing as his head felt like it had been stuffed full of cotton wool until all coherent thoughts were pushed out.

While his eyes worked, any message trying to get through was getting blocked by his brain and not traveling to the rest of his body; from the narrow space beneath the police car, he saw the robot moving, struggling to rise to its feet again. In a matter of moments it would achieve its goal, start walking and possibly crush him like a bug under its weight.

Tony realized, belatedly, that it might have been smarter to stay in the suit even if it was broken beyond repair; it would have sheltered him better than lying here like a broken toy.

A giant foot was placed firmly on the ground, then another. The hands disappeared from his line of sight. Tony felt the tremors of the first step the robot took.

He wondered whether he might survive this if he lay really still and quiet – although that never seemed to work for anyone in the movies. Maybe because they were always breathing so loud and Tony felt like he couldn't breathe at all –

The familiar roar of the Hulk was followed by the sound of metal being forcefully torn apart. Tony usually associated the sound with someone trying to dig their way through his armor so he didn't actually enjoy it, but he did feel a rush of relief when the giant robot's head suddenly landed in the middle of the intersection, rolling around before lying still, the glowing eyes dark and sparks spitting around broken cables and wires until they too were drained of power.

Tony looked at it, feeling strangely peaceful now that the danger had passed.

That meant he almost pissed his pants when the police car suddenly went flying, swept clear off the ground as if it was a toy car. For an instant Tony envisioned the headless robot above him, ready to finish the job, but instead he saw a pair of green eyes and a large set of powerful shoulders.

The Hulk huffed, stepping closer, then crouched down. "Tony hurt," he stated.

"Just a little… banged up," Tony managed.

Another huff followed and one large hand hovered over his body, staying still as if contemplating whether to touch him or not. Tony reached up for it, curling his fingers around two larger ones – were they the ones he had been holding just a day before?

The Hulk looked at him, appearing unconvinced by Tony's declaration about the seriousness of his injuries.

"Did you smash all the lizards?" Tony asked.

"Hulk smashed ugly teeth," the rage monster announced with a wide grin then glanced down at his arm. Tony looked up from the fingers he was holding and could see several holes in the Hulk's forearm. They were healing, no longer bleeding, but clearly those things had had a nasty bite.

"Are the others okay?" Tony asked. "You can go back and smash the rest of the lizards –"

"Shellhead broken," the Hulk interrupted him then pulled back his hand – not hard enough to yank his fingers free of Tony's grasp, but as if testing whether he would follow the movement. Tony tried, sitting up slowly, then winced at the pain both in his back and chest. The fact that he couldn't feel any pain in his right leg was probably an indication of injuries as well, although he wasn't going to lament it right now.

"I think I… need a moment," Tony finally managed, placing his left hand across the arc reactor. His chest was on fire now and it felt like his heart was going to give in at any moment. He actually had to remove his hand and make sure the familiar blue glow was still there because it felt like he was dying in small bursts.

The Hulk remained still, but he was never one for patience and tugged on Tony's hand again, the green fingers twitching slightly in his hold. "Up," the Hulk demanded, standing himself, and Tony attempted to follow. He got mostly upright before his right leg buckled beneath him, as if completely asleep; it didn't hurt but he could tell the robot's grip on it had caused some damage.

A big, green hand caught him, steadying him carefully. The Hulk's touch was too gentle at first, almost allowing him to slip back to the ground, but the fingers soon tightened and held him more securely.

"Can you walk?" the Hulk asked – the sentence perfectly clear in the midst of all the broken ones they were so used to hearing. If Tony's mind had been working at half its usual capacity, he would have already tried to find a reason for that – lack of practice, perhaps. With whom had the Hulk ever had a chance to talk? People who were shooting at him?

"Sorry, buddy," Tony forced a faint smile, his weight pretty much completely in the Hulk's hand. He released the fingers he had been holding and tried to steady himself instead, to gain some control over his disoriented body. "Maybe I could just lie back down? It's not so bad, really, if you sweep away the rubble…"

Instead of lying him back down, the Hulk carefully scooped him up. If Tony hadn't been so worn out and out of it, not to mention the pain that came back in a brief wave before slowly retreating again, he might have protested. As it was, he pressed his head against the firm shoulder, smelling battle and the Hulk's own scent on the green skin.

"Safe," the Hulk murmured, the sound rumbling in his chest. Tony could feel the vibrations against his cheek and smiled at it, closing his eyes.

There was something he should remember, though… "The suit…. Can't leave the armor, okay, big guy? Someone might steal it, and I can't…"

"Hulk protects the suit," the Hulk agreed. "Hulk smashes robbers."

Tony decided he couldn't have assigned a better guard dog and allowed his mind to drift off, just a little bit.

* * *

"Stark!"

Tony snapped out of it so violently it felt like his head had been severed from his neck and would roll off his shoulders at any given moment. He felt comfortable for about two seconds before the slow burn started in his chest, stabbing needles at his insides, and he had one of the worst non-alcohol-related headaches of his life.

Since becoming Iron Man, he'd had a lot of the alcohol-related ones, so he had something to compare it to.

"Tony."

He looked to the right, finding the Avengers gathered at his side. They looked worried and he wondered what their problem was. Then the Hulk growled and Tony realized what may have been happening while he was dozing. "How long was I out?" he asked.

"It's good to know you're napping out here while we're busting our asses," Barton noted sharply but the concerned note in his voice reduced the edginess to a weak remark.

"Are you well?" Thor asked, stepping forward. The Hulk let out another growl and the Asgardian stopped his approach.

"Did we win?" Tony asked.

"Of course we did," Barton replied.

"How badly are you injured?" Rogers asked then, shield on his arm as if he were expecting to fight the Hulk if need be, in order to help Tony – which was all kinds of fucked up.

"It's… manageable," Tony offered. "I just need to catch a ride back to the Mansion with you guys since my suit took a bit of a beating."

No one commented on the pile of gold and red scrap metal the Hulk was standing near.

"Hawkeye, get the Quinjet," Rogers ordered. "Hulk," he went on a bit less certainly, "can you lay Tony down so that we can make sure he's not bleeding?"

"Not bleeding, but it's fine," Tony reassured them both, patting the green arm. "Just put me down."

The Hulk slowly bent down and rested him carefully on the street. Tony hissed, recalling why slamming into solid objects wasn't good for your health – especially when outside the suit.

Rogers approached slowly, keeping his eyes on the Hulk, but when the rage monster didn't move to defend Tony, he knelt down beside him. "You should have called for back-up," he said, voice tense.

"I was doing fine on my own," Tony defended himself.

The Hulk let out such a mighty huff of protest that he didn't bother to finish. Also, Rogers' expression said it all but the man only let out a disappointed sigh – which was almost worse than any comment he may have made – and slid his shield off his arm and strapped it to his back. "Where are you hurt?"

"It can wait until we get back," Tony informed him tersely.

"You can't even stand," their leader snapped back.

"I'm not bleeding to death –"

"There's blood all over your face!"

Tony blinked then frowned, moving one hand up to his face. It didn't hurt – not worse than most other places on his body – but he felt something on his skin; dried and disgusting. He guessed he might as well take Rogers' word for it since he wasn't able to see for himself. "I would say it's not mine, but I'm pretty sure it is."

Rogers let out another deep, tired sigh. "You think?"

"I said I'm pretty sure," Tony frowned. Yeah, he could definitely feel something sticking to his skin, pulling on it the wrong way.

"Not too much smell of blood," the Hulk declared and Tony took that as a win.

Rogers looked up at the words, seemed to come to the same conclusion, then looked sharply at Tony. "If you bleed to death on the flight back, I'll have them carve '_he was pretty sure'_ on your tombstone."

Tony grinned – then grimaced at another sensation of his skin being pulled the wrong way and decided on no facial expressions until he got his face cleaned up.

* * *

The flight back was quiet. Thor and Rogers had carried the pieces of the armor into the Quinjet while the Hulk refused to let anyone else carry Tony – who still couldn't actually stay on his own two feet. Tony didn't quite sleep on the plane but hovered instead on the far edge of consciousness, trying to tune out the pain which mostly radiated around his chest cavity.

They were half-way back before the Hulk stomped over to a far corner of the Quinjet and Bruce emerged some fifteen minutes later, dirty but whole. No shark-teeth bite marks anywhere.

"Jesus, Tony," was the only thing he said, in a near whisper, and sat next to his head on the bench Tony was lying on.

"It's not as bad as it looks – and you should see the villain," Tony tried.

"You didn't destroy the robot," Bruce deadpanned.

"I didn't?" Tony arched an eyebrow – and was reminded why he was still in the no-expressions zone.

"The other guy did," Bruce murmured.

How Bruce knew that, Tony wanted to find out. Just… not right that instant.

With Bruce's comfortably warm hand on his face, Tony allowed his mind to drift a bit further back. He wouldn't readily admit it was because he felt safe, should anyone ask, but it felt good to just lie back and feel the slight circling caresses of Bruce's thumb on his skin – even with all the dried blood still there.

* * *

"Am I doing this right?"

"_Yes, Dr. Banner. It won't take long,"_ J.A.R.V.I.S. replied.

Tony just blinked slowly, listening to the discussion but not participating, trying to breathe through it. Wires were attached to his chest – to the arc reactor – trying to stabilize its energy output that the suit had disrupted and calibrate it back to normal functions again.

It wasn't damaged – just needed a little fine tuning – something both he and J.A.R.V.I.S. had repeatedly explained to a rather concerned Bruce Banner.

The pain was lessening, replaced by an uncomfortable feeling which had more to do with bad memories about wires in his chest than actual discomfort from the procedure. Tony was dressed in shorts and nothing more, the blood scrubbed from his skin and injuries tended to. There were ice packs waiting in his room, Bruce had said, once this was taken care of. They would turn in after this and Tony would sleep for the next twelve hours at least.

Bruce's hand touched his chest carefully, circling the wires as if to check for anything that might compromise the delicate process. Tony forced himself to shift his head, to look at him, and Bruce's other hand moved to his neck, tracing his pulse point before he leaned in and kissed Tony.

It was desperate, in a sense; close-lipped and with a lot of pressure, brief and insistent yet returning almost immediately afterwards to re-connect and reassure them both that they were still here and alive.

"You need to talk to Steve once this is done," Bruce said finally, drawing back.

"I thought we were going to bed after this," Tony said – and for once he was expecting nothing but sleep and comfort from his bedroom and its possible other occupant.

"You need to tell him this wasn't his fault," Bruce went on as if Tony hadn't spoken.

"How is this _his_ fault?" Tony frowned. He was out of it, he could admit that, but Bruce wasn't making any sense.

The scientist gave him a hard look that brooked no argument. "He made the decision to send you out alone after the robot. You almost got killed."

"I wasn't even close to dying," Tony insisted then shut his mouth so fast he almost bit his tongue when Bruce's hand – the one still on his neck – tightened painfully. The brown eyes flashed with green and Tony could almost see the beast staring at him.

"Don't lie to me," Bruce ground out, almost as if it pained him, then forced his hand to let go and retreat from Tony's neck. His eyes, once again brown, looked at the spot his fingers had squeezed the hardest and Tony wondered if he saw bruises forming there already, for his expression was quite horrified. However, Bruce didn't pull back, which was saying something.

"Okay, I admit it could have gone batter. A _lot_ better," Tony said slowly, carefully. This was the side of Bruce he didn't get to see often – the explosive nature that had a hair-trigger on the Hulk's temper and power without an actual transformation. If he said the wrong thing, recalibrating his arc reactor might be the least of his worries. "If I'd had time to react, I would have called one of you to help me. As it was, I was being smashed into buildings and… I screwed up, okay?" he finally said, and that seemed to do the trick, for Bruce's shoulders sagged in relief immediately. "I should have seen I needed back-up but I thought I could handle it anyway, because that's what I always do. I don't need help from anyone and…"

"Just tell Steve that he made the right choice and that you're going to be okay," Bruce relented, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes.

Tony noticed the hand on his chest had never moved – never tightened, despite it being so much closer to what could actually kill him. Well, choking was bad for one's health, too, as was a broken neck, but somehow Tony didn't even let those two into the same ballpark with the arc reactor-related dangers.

He lifted one hand and laid it across Bruce's on his chest. "I promise I'll remind our fearless leader of my shortcomings as a team member."

Bruce's eyes opened long enough to narrow at him, then he gave him a sharp nod as if knowing that was as good as it was going to get.

"_Recalibration complete, sir,"_ J.A.R.V.I.S. announced.

"Okay," Tony nodded, moving his hand but Bruce beat him to it, slowly and carefully disconnecting the wires then rotated and locked the arc reactor back in place. It was all done with such careful precision and loving attention that Tony could only look at the other man and blink stupidly at the shirt that was offered to him a minute later.

Bruce gave him half a smile, slid a hand through Tony's hair then put the shirt on the table. "Can you walk?"

Tony shifted to the edge of the table then slowly lowered himself to the floor. His legs held out, although the right one was heavily bruised already. Most of his muscles protested as he took his first step but Bruce allowed him to do it, following behind him and shutting down the equipment as they went.

The mansion was quiet around them as they moved across it, yet Rogers was in the kitchen, making himself something to eat. His face was blank, eyes distant and it looked like he was mechanically trying to feed himself instead of actually being interested in it.

"Cap?" Tony called out, recalling Bruce's rather forceful request. "Can I…?"

Rogers looked up so fast it was almost comical. "Do you need something?"

"I need to tell you it wasn't your fault," Tony said. That was easy, he could do that. "Sending me, on my own, to deal with the robot wasn't a bad call."

Rogers nodded rigidly but his expression didn't change.

Tony was keenly aware of Bruce standing beside him, a quiet presence of suppressed concern and anger. Giving Rogers his full attention, Tony cleared his throat. "I should have asked for back-up. This whole hassle could have been avoided but I thought I had things under control – until they weren't, obviously. Just for the record, this doesn't happen every –"

There was no growl, no shift, no movement, but Tony was certain Bruce was disapproving so he shut up and just sort of shrugged at Rogers.

The super-soldier didn't relax but his eyes seemed to come back to life. "We need to work on that. I can't… The team can't handle one of its members almost losing their lives on every mission." It was his round-about way of saying that he felt responsible, that he couldn't cope with it, and that Tony had better work on staying alive.

Tony nodded. "Understood." He glanced at Bruce then: "Now, can we go to bed?"

The scientist rolled his eyes, just a little, but headed towards Tony's rooms and Tony gladly followed him, slowly and painfully but very much alive.

* * *

Instead of twelve hours, Tony slept for almost a day. Far as he knew, in between sleeping, waking up, drinking water, swallowing painkillers and taking a piss, Bruce stayed with him during the first ten. After that the man was a reoccurring presence beside him, sometimes there, sometimes not, but Tony was at peace since J.A.R.V.I.S. let him know about Bruce's whereabouts every time he woke up to find the man missing – no doubt something the scientist had told the AI to do.

He felt remarkably more alive after a good bout of unconsciousness and rest. Sure, the bruises were in full bloom now and would remind him of his mortality for days to come, but he had dealt with that before and it just drove him to re-invent the suit, time and time again.

Next time there was a giant robot, he would take it down or at least withstand being repeatedly slammed into solid surfaces.

It was the day after their return from Chicago when Tony teetered between getting out of bed or rolling over and going back to sleep. Bruce was currently making his way back to his room, according to J.A.R.V.I.S., and Tony was determined to see him and hear what he was up to before making a decision.

Bruce entered quietly, like he always did, smiling at Tony. He was wearing one of those purple button-down shirts which reminded Tony of the first time they'd met on the Helicarrier. Where Bruce kept finding them, he had no idea, but he always seemed to have one of them lying around. Tony didn't mind; it was a reminder of one of the most meaningful encounters of his life, and he might even go as far as to say that he had changed Bruce's life that day, by influencing him to join the Avengers in battle.

"Feeling better?" Bruce asked, voice low. Tony wasn't sure what time it was but Bruce looked tired.

"Yeah," Tony admitted.

The other man stopped by the bed and Tony stared back at him, feeling relaxed and rather serene. A smile flitted across Bruce's face again and he started unbuttoning his shirt. Tony reached out to him, grabbing onto the edge of his pants and dragged him over, onto the bed.

Bruce shifted his weight so as to not land on him, straddling Tony's legs as he caught himself. The glasses were still perched on his nose and Tony carefully reached for them, folding them and placing them carefully on the pillow next to his, not bothering to try to see if he could reach the nightstand in his current position.

Above him, Bruce resumed unbuttoning his shirt, then eventually tugged it off and threw it in the direction of the glasses. Tony heard the whisper of fabric settling down, landing and remaining there. He didn't care about the shirt; he cared about reassuring this man here that he was okay, that they were going to be okay, and that nothing was going to happen even if Tony had the tendency to over-reach and then fall hard.

Bruce leaned forward, placing his hands on either side of Tony's shoulders, close enough to touch his skin. Tony reached out with his right hand, lifting Bruce's left one and pulling it up to his face. The fingers curled along his jaw, traveling down, then Tony tilted his head to kiss them softly, inhaling the scent of his lover and closing his eyes to simply sense his proximity.

"I hate it when you do that," Bruce murmured.

Tony opened his eyes, trying to see the answer to his obvious question on the other man's face. "Do what?"

"Manage to look so frail," Bruce went on, "while I know you're one of the strongest people I've ever met. It makes me want to…"

"Hey," Tony reached up with his left hand, touching Bruce's face. "I'm every bit as strong as you think I am. And if that's not enough, some days, you and the other guy are there to back me up."

"We might not always be there," Bruce mused.

"Are you planning on going somewhere?"

Bruce blinked then lowered himself, angling to the side so that he lay next to Tony more than on top of him. His hand moved to Tony's face again even while Tony's hand still held onto it, while Bruce's other arm moved the glasses and the shirt out of the way so he could properly lie down.

Tony looked at him, his smile sickeningly genuine but he had no reason to hide it. "Thought so," he answered his own question and rolled slightly to the side, to press further against the other man. Aches and all, this was so much better than any other alternative.

_to be continued…_


	19. Chapter 18: Tapping

**Author's notes:** I just keep adding chapters to this story. This and the next ones are "extras" that I came up with on the fly in the aftermath of Chapter 17 (because Tony and Bruce needed to get a bit angsty for a change).

* * *

**Chapter 18: Tapping**

* * *

Five days had passed since the mission in Chicago. Tony spent most of that time bedridden, allowing his body to heal. Bruce had made sure to slip him enough painkillers and sleeping pills to not let the other man entertain any ideas of getting out of bed and going down to the lab to work on the broken armor.

The other Avengers had sat down daily to discuss what had gone wrong. All in all the mission had been a success – and that was probably the only reason why Fury wasn't breathing down their necks in person; the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. had expressed, on various occasions and without any room for misunderstandings, that Stark had to get his act together because he hadn't founded and supported the Avengers to risk his own career having to babysit one of its members.

"Maybe Stark just needs to hug the spotlight, not matter how he does it," Clint suggested.

"He was Iron Man long before the Avengers was formed," Natasha argued. "Maybe he just can't handle the pressure of performing as part of a team."

Bruce listened to the conversation but didn't take part. He rarely said anything – something the others appeared to notice, giving Bruce those long, expectant looks and then quickly moving their attention elsewhere in case he took it the wrong way.

The Avengers were far from being a team. There were trust issues – most of which had nothing to do with Bruce and Tony's relationship – and that was one of the reasons Tony kept pulling stunts like these. Certainly Tony hadn't really been part of a team before, either, but he had a mind for action and he could calculate five more people into the equation easily.

No, it had very little to do with being on a team, and everything to do with who Tony was, and how he handled these situations. Perhaps as Iron Man, when it was just himself Tony had to worry about, he didn't have to consider his actions as much – or their repercussions.

The discussion ceased around him and Bruce inched his chair back, getting up. He headed up to Tony's rooms, glancing at the time, knowing the other man would probably be waking up in an hour or two – then opened the door to an empty bedroom. To be sure, Bruce stepped inside, checked the bathroom, lounge and every walk-in closet, finding no sign of Tony. "J.A.R.V.I.S.," he spoke up finally, "locate Tony for me."

"_Mr. Stark is currently in the lab adjoining the armory."_

"Of course he is," Bruce sighed, closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, then turned around and marched to the door and took the private elevator down. He keyed in his code and waited for the elevator to move and the doors to open, all the while dreading what would be the first thing Tony decided to do once he felt alive enough to leave the bed for something other than a bathroom visit or a quick shower.

The lab was brightly lit by lights overhead and several layers of holographic screens. Tony stood at the far end, an array of damaged and bent armor parts on a work bench in front of him, in the process of being scanned. At least he was taking the damage seriously and working on strengthening the design. Not that Bruce had doubted his lover's resolve to better the Iron Man suit; he knew it was a constantly evolving process, a myriad of trial-and-error experiments which had the potential to seriously injure him if something wasn't foreseen.

Well, a giant robot smashing him into buildings and the street hadn't probably been on the list of things Tony had prepared for, originally, when building the armor, but that was the kind of thing they apparently were facing.

Bruce stopped to observe the situation, feeling a bit calmer now that he had located Tony and listened to him murmur commands to the AI, as well as making notes, calculations and measurements for further use. Bruce's eyes traveled across the screens, some of them exploded views of machinery so complex he could spend hours searching every detail that Tony's brilliant mind had put together.

Then his eyes locked on a more familiar shape and he walked over to the projection of the arc reactors – two of them, on top of each other, separated by two thin layers. One of them was the undersuit, the other armor, and there was wiring connecting the arc reactor below the clothing to the armor components – and the other arc reactor. Bruce raised his hand to the manipulable virtual image and rotated it, making sure he understood the functions depicted in the projection.

"Is this functional in your current suit?" Bruce asked.

He heard Tony start – a small inhale, a clang of two solid pieces hitting each other as he was snapped out of whatever he had been doing. "Yeah. It's… It needs a little work," Tony called back after a pause – probably checking what Bruce was looking at.

"I want you to remove it," Bruce stated, stepping back from the screen, removing his fingers from it as if the image burned him.

"Excuse me?" Tony turned to properly look at him, a deep frown on his face.

Bruce walked over to him, removing the bent, golden piece of metal from Tony's hands and caught the brown eyes with his own. "I want you to listen, and listen well. I'm not going to say this again: take that function out of your suit immediately. I can't even understand why you would risk your own health like that!"

"Okay, let's back up a bit," Tony cut in before Bruce could think of something else. His voice was defiant and hurt, signaling that Bruce had crossed a line. "It's my suit, my design. While I don't usually mind your input, I don't think you're in a position to tell me what to include in my –"

"You're allowing your suit to tap into the arc reactor in your chest!" Bruce shouted. "Is that why you were about to have a heart attack in Chicago? Why the arc had to be re-calibrated after?"

Tony's face adopted that dark, blank expression that hadn't been there for a long time – especially not with Bruce. Never with Bruce. Tony reserved it for people he didn't trust, and Bruce had never been in that category before. "You don't get it," Tony started, voice biting.

"This…" Bruce cut in, emphasizing the word by placing his palm gently on Tony's chest – yet it still made the other man catch his breath in the aftermath of his earlier shouting. The blue glow was faint beneath his shirt and Bruce couldn't actually feel the current running inside the device, but he could imagine it. "This thing keeps you alive. You cannot compromise it. I can't believe you would think of doing it in the first place."

"That's the _thing_ that ran my suit in the past," Tony snapped, stepping back and away from his touch. "I did just fine back then. I'm doing fine now. I don't need you to tell me how to do this."

"Tony –"

"Do you think you even grasp what being Iron Man means?" Tony's eyes narrowed. "It isn't a game. I've almost died inside that armor far more times than I care to count, and what I do to make it stronger is none of your business. What I choose to include in the next upgrade isn't up for debate, and I sure as hell don't need you to dictate what I can and cannot do!"

It was clear Bruce had just set the cat among the pigeons and Tony was going ballistic. However, he wasn't about to back down on this. "I don't care about the rest of it, but you can't think that connecting the device that that keeps you alive into your suit is a good idea now that you've managed to sever the contact. Find another way to increase power."

"It's a failsafe – and I shouldn't have to defend myself to you, of all people," Tony shot back, eyes narrowed, body tense. If it had been anyone else, the other guy might have already been surfacing, but for the time being Bruce felt incredibly in control – considering how out of control the situation really was.

"Oh, so we're going down that road? Well, take it from the pro: don't do it. Don't get cocky and kill yourself," Bruce said flatly.

"You think that's what I'm trying to do? Get myself killed?"

"That's what it's looked like recently!" Bruce hadn't meant to say it, not really, but there it was and Tony looked even less happy with him and what was transpiring between them.

"Get out of my workshop, Banner."

"Not before you promise to take that feature out of the suit."

"Whether I do or don't, it's not your call." Tony went to turn around, to return to the work bench and engross himself in his work again, but Bruce reached out, grabbing his upper arm and yanking him back around, hard.

"You'll do it," Bruce said – or growled. Definitely growled. He felt green, felt the itch beneath the skin and a promising heat in his eyes; the other guy was coming out. "You'll untap your suit from any contact with the arc reactor in your chest or the other guy will tear each and every one of yours armors to pieces until you do."

Tony's face betrayed very little, nor did his eyes. He smelled slightly of fear, however – and that Bruce could smell it was yet another sign that the beast was coming to the surface. "Fuck you, Bruce," Tony finally muttered, trying to shove him away, to get free, but Bruce's hold on his arm was tight and unrelenting.

"I told you –"

"I fucking heard!" Tony shouted back. "Is this the man you really are? You can't get the message across so you play the 'big green bully' card?"

"I won't unless I have to. You're not giving me a choice."

"You have the choice to drop it."

"Not going to happen, Tony," Bruce promised him. The muscles of Tony's arm tensed beneath his grip but weren't strong enough to free him. Ordinarily, Tony might have stood a chance, but Bruce was channeling the other guy – which he rarely allowed to happen since it usually led to a transformation anyway – yet he couldn't back down on this. Sooner or later something would go wrong and Tony would lie lifeless on the ground, inside the suit, the arc reactor dead in his chest and the shrapnel digging into his heart. It wasn't worth it and he couldn't believe Tony would take this risk so callously and selfishly.

"I love you, and I can't let you take yet another step toward killing yourself on the field," Bruce finally said, trying to reason with Tony again.

Tony flinched visibly, looking away from him. His eyes were wide now but he was trying to mask it, to make himself less exposed. "Damn it, Bruce…"

Bruce knew he had won. He had said the one thing that mattered, which Tony couldn't deny, and Bruce felt ashamed that he would use the word in this context. He hadn't meant for it to happen this way, during an argument, although what had the chances been of it happening any other way?

Slowly he let Tony go, who remained standing there, all the fight drained out of him. Bruce knew better than to press for more now, and retreated from the workshop, feeling horrible but knowing that he had done the right thing.

After all, he did love Tony and there was no way he would let the man intentionally put his life at risk – even if it was the means to a better end in a tight corner on the battlefield.

_to be continued…_


	20. Chapter 19: Dreamscape 2 0

**Author's notes:** Written with _**spocktacular**_'s (AO3) comment in mind (she mentioned that Bruce's sexy dreams needed to make a re-appearance, so here's some of that).

* * *

**Chapter 19: Dreamscape 2.0**

* * *

Lying in bed, alone, while knowing that Tony was in the same building… Bruce hadn't thought it would feel so _weird_.

He turned and twisted in the sheets, restless and deeply aware of how alone he was in the bed he had shared with Tony for weeks now. Briefly he wondered whether he should go back to his own room, seeing as perhaps Tony was staying away because of the sudden strain between them and Bruce didn't want him to skip sleep because of that.

On the other hand, Bruce had been in the right, and he wasn't backing down. Any self-respecting person would have told Tony the same – especially if they cared about him at all. That Tony didn't take it well spoke of nothing but Tony's unwillingness to accept defeat and take criticism, and the inability to keep himself _away_ from unnecessary risk.

Sighing, Bruce closed his eyes and thought back to their argument down in Tony's workshop. It was like watching a train wreck, over and over again; he could see where the discussion had started to go bad, Tony's body language so obvious to him after all this time. Bruce had known he was pushing in the wrong direction but if he wanted to get his point across, there was no way around it.

And then he had used the one word he'd hoped to save for a moment that deserved it, not to throw it as a wrench in the works.

He could hardly take it back now, though, because Tony had caught it like a boomerang in the forehead.

Sighing again, Bruce wished Tony would cool off, come to bed and curl up next to him. There didn't even need to be apologies of any kind – he could live without them – but he wanted and needed the other man here, with him, because without Tony…

Bruce was beginning to see how much his life had changed after they got involved, and it scared him.

Not as much as it made his chest ache with regret for what had just passed between them, but it had to be done.

It was hours before he fell asleep, still alone in bed…

* * *

_He feels warm, like lying in the sun. The only source of light in the room isn't the sun but the blue, familiar glow of the arc reactor. It should feel cold, to the touch, casting off its pale, lifeless light, but it doesn't._

_The arc reactor means life; a beating heart._

_He lifts his hand, flesh glowing against the smooth surface of the device, and the chest it's fixed into presses closer with a deep inhale. He can't feel the thrum of his heart – not unless he moves his hand higher, to Tony's throat – but he senses the constant whir of energy beneath the transparent surface, a comforting sensation he's learned to cherish._

"_Bruce…" Tony's inner thighs brush firmly against his hips, knees against his lower ribs. The single word between them shatters Bruce's resolve, if he had any of it left; he grasps, finding Tony's neck, then hoists himself up, far enough to place an arm around Tony's waist, to keep him still as he rolls them around._

_Tony's legs grip his waist, adjusting to the change in position._

_Bruce is still so deep within him it almost blows his mind, yet he wants to be deeper, closer…_

"_Bruce," Tony whispers again. The glow of the arc reactor doesn't reach his face, but it catches his eyes for a moment; dark, wide, nailed on Bruce's face._

_It's like a siren's call and Bruce has to move. Hands fisting in the sheets next to Tony's head, thumbs close enough to feel hair and skin, and if his balance weren't already so precarious, he would move closer, touch him all over. He leans lower, moves forward, and Tony's breaths ghost against his cheek. Hot and desperate; they both want this so much, need it, and the end looms close, overwhelming and –_

Gone.

Bruce's eyes shot open and he groaned, one hand already moving down to his crotch. Part of him was amazed he hadn't already blown his load all over the sheets and all he could do was struggle free of the sheets, make it to the bathroom and try not to make a mess.

Once the haze began to clear, Bruce leaned against an uncomfortably cool wall, blinking the last of the dream from his eyes. It had certainly been a while since those had assaulted him, and he wondered if the sudden lack of Tony's presence had influenced him so fast – or was it coming from a deeper corner of his mind, the knowledge that he may have actually upset his lover?

As he pondered that, something very close to an explosion seemed to rock the entire building. There was no smoke, however, and the sound passed almost as fast as it came, making walls shiver and windows rattle in their frames.

"J.A.R.V.I.S.," he called out, voice still groggy although his heart had picked up the pace from the scare.

"_Yes, Dr. Banner?"_ the AI replied almost instantly.

"Is Tony still on the premises?"

"_Mr. Stark left the Avengers Mansion approximately nineteen seconds ago. He's currently headed to the Stark Tower."_

Well, it was better than Tony taking off, say, to Malibu. "Was he… is he upset?" Bruce asked.

"_He seemed distressed in the aftermath of your argument."_

"I should go after him," Bruce mused out loud. "Sort this out."

"_While I understand the logic behind that – and may I point out I agree with your sentiment about the potential dangers of the dual arc reactor function of the suit – it may be best to leave Mr. Stark alone for the time being. He's known for outbursts he rarely means while upset."_

"Yeah," Bruce closed his eyes and leaned more firmly against the wall. "Let me know when he's calm enough to talk."

"_Very well, Dr. Banner."_

Bruce wondered if he should go back to bed, seeing as it was still night-time, or if he should perhaps take a page from Tony's book and go do some work instead. After all, he doubted his dreams would be pleasant if he took another shot at sleeping – or maybe _too_ pleasant, even if the latter left him feeling worse than most of his nightmares.

_to be continued…_


	21. Chapter 20: Untapping

**Author's note:** While writing the end of the chapter, I happened to be listening to _A Perfect Circle_'s song _The Noose_. I think its mood was quite fitting.

* * *

**Chapter 20: Untapping**

* * *

When Bruce had stalked out of Tony's work area in the Mansion, several Avengers had spotted him but none of them were foolish enough to engage his attention in any way; it had been clear he was angry and upset, hopefully more of the latter than the former.

After the Chicago mission, there had been much tension in the air. The situation had been manageable amongst the rest of the team while Tony stayed in bed, recuperating, but it seemed things got worse almost instantaneously when Tony finally felt good enough to work.

"What do you think happened?" Clint mused.

Steve looked out towards the hallway where Bruce had disappeared, in the direction of his and Tony's shared room.

"Maybe they fought," Natasha suggested. There was no hiding the unease that followed those words.

"They'll make up and make out ," Clint finally decided, shrugging it off – or pretending to, because there was no relaxing the tension of his jaw.

Steve wondered if he should do something. However, he was really just their leader on the field and knew from recent experience that neither Tony nor Bruce appreciated his orders outside of Avengers business. He decided to see how this played out – and prayed it wasn't what they had all been fearing.

They sat in the living room, watching TV and pointedly not talking about Bruce's obviously dark state of mind when he passed by the room a few hours ago. Thor arrived late that night, having visited Jane Foster in New Mexico. He seemed cheery until he took a look at the three Avengers and promptly adopted a grave expression. "Is something the matter, my friends?" he asked, putting Mjolnir down on the floor.

"Bruce appeared… upset earlier," Natasha explained.

"We think he might have had an argument with Tony," Clint added.

Thor frowned. "Have you not spoken to them?"

"We're… waiting to see how it goes," Steve offered. "You do recall Bruce's stance on us interfering, right?"

"Indeed I do," Thor nodded. "Perhaps it will be wise to keep our peace and see how this unfolds."

"I concur," Clint mused and turned back to the screen. Some hunting show was on and he scoffed at the screen. "Bow and arrow still get the job done with half the fuss," he mused. "No reason to divert from the classics…"

Natasha switched the channel soon after, landing on some action movie with an on-going car chase of ridiculous proportions. It was entertaining, however, and managed to drag their attention away from the possibility of a conflict between their two teammates.

It was long past midnight when Tony appeared, greasy and dirty, a look of deep discontent on his face. The Avengers looked up in alarm, regarding him as if he were an approaching hurricane which could go either way: right at them or pass them by safely.

"What?" Tony snapped. He wasn't toning down the anger, not one bit.

"Is everything okay?" Steve asked carefully. "We saw Bruce leave –"

"Yeah?" Tony cut him off. "You got some more relationship advice you want to give me? Or maybe you want to get in line behind Bruce to tell me how to do my job?!"

Steve was taken aback by the sudden outburst. Yes, he had seen Tony angry before, but not like this. "I don't want to tell you what to do," he started. "Of course not –"

Tony scoffed at his words, stopping Steve mid-sentence for a second time. "Of course you do! That's what everyone ever wants. 'Tony, do this', 'Tony, do that', 'Tony, I think I know better than _you_ how _your_ fucking armor works'!"

Clint was sinking further into the couch, out of sight. His hand moved back and forth across his throat in an attempt to signal that someone needed to stop the situation from escalating.

"You and Bruce argued about your armor?" Steve frowned. He hadn't seen that coming, and it didn't make sense. Why would Bruce care about that – and why on Earth would he make Tony upset? Everyone knew better than to make comments about the Iron Man armor if there was even a slightest chance Tony wouldn't like whatever came out of their mouths. They had seen what happened to villains who offended Tony's tech; no one could say Tony didn't get creative in terms of revenge.

Tony snorted. "You could say that," he muttered in response to Steve's question.

"I'm sure he meant nothing by it," Steve attempted to soften whatever blow Tony's pride had taken.

It was, clearly, the wrong thing to say, because Tony's eyes were instantly on his face, burning like a wild furnace. "Oh, he meant it – made sure that I understood that part – so don't you fucking cover up for him!"

"I'm not trying to –"

"Yeah?"

"No," Steve snapped, feeling stressed and backed into a corner. He had never liked being backed into a corner – and he had never stayed down either. He wasn't going to start now, with Tony of all people. "This is exactly what I was trying to avoid; the two of you getting into some trivial argument –"

"Fuck you, Rogers! Crawl back into the fucking ice cube they pulled you out of!" Tony yelled at him and then stormed out past them. They heard a door slamming and not too long after, Iron Man took off, a sonic boom rattling the windows as he broke the sound barrier at little less than hundred feet from the ground.

"Whoa," Clint finally commented. "What the _hell_ was that?"

Steve closed his eyes and steadied his breathing. His body was still tense, bordering on painful, as if the danger hadn't passed yet. However, he was pretty sure it had, because the sound of the armor had disappeared and nothing but silence replaced it

"That was unusual," Natasha noted. "He rarely explodes like that."

"Should we follow him?" Thor asked.

"No," she replied at once. "Give him time to cool down. Right now we'll just make it worse if we try to intervene." Steve heard her move, then a slender hand rested on his still-tense shoulder. "It's not your fault, Cap. You could have stood there, not saying a word, and he would have probably gone off like that anyway."

Steve wasn't so sure about that, but he nodded and stated he was going to the gym; a few punching bags needed a beating.

* * *

**Next day,  
Stark Tower,  
Manhattan, New York City, NY, USA**

That night and the next morning had been an utter waste. The armor he had taken from the Mansion was busted, the repulsors and servos fried from his excessive speeding. J.A.R.V.I.S. knew better than to do his version of 'I told you so, sir', but Tony still kept flinging items across the workshop and swearing at the performance issues of the suit.

Bruce didn't even need to act on his threat to dismantle his armors since most of them were out of commission anyway.

Tony pushed a hand across his face. He was so fucking tired, his body shaking from exhaustion and too much coffee. He couldn't stop working, however, because he was convinced that once he did, he would sink down to the floor in a miserable heap and bawl his eyes out.

That wasn't going to happen – no matter how much his eyes burned and his chest felt too tight around the arc reactor, making him shake even more.

"Fuck," he muttered.

No-one replied; his AI knew better.

Tony moved his gaze along the armor parts laid out on the bench before him, the majority of the suit hanging from the ceiling and awaiting repairs. His eyes landed on the arc reactor, shining blue in the midst of mechanical parts, set aside as he worked on the chest plate connections. It felt like the device was taunting him while sitting there.

He was half-tempted to seize the arc and send it flying across the room, but he knew better. They weren't cheap and he could build two suits in the time it took to perfect an arc reactor fitted for the armor.

_"Sir,"_ J.A.R.V.I.S. spoke up suddenly, _"Thor Odinson has arrived at the Tower."_

"And?" Tony snapped.

_"He says he's here to see you."_

"Tell him I'm busy."

There was a pause. _"Mr. Odinson would like to inquire how long you think it will be before you will see him? It would appear he's planning on waiting until you're done."_

"Just tell him to leave me alone," Tony replied angrily. Why was Thor here, anyway? Were the others on their way? He was pretty sure he could continue from where he had left off last night, if that's what they wanted.

_"I'm afraid he's being quite obstinate. Perhaps if you entertain him…"_

Tony narrowed his eyes at the closest one of J.A.R.V.I.S.'s visual sensors. "Really, J? You're siding with them?"

_"I'm hardly in a position to take sides, sir."_

"Sure you are."

_"Well, in that case, do us both a favor and get this over with. Sir."_

"I'm just putting it out there: re-programming," Tony replied, pushing back from the bench and making his way to the elevator.

_"If you ever get around to it,"_ J.A.R.V.I.S. noted.

"I sure will," Tony snapped, stepping inside the elevator and leaning against the back wall, arms cross over his chest. "Watch me."

_"Considering all the times you have threatened me with downgrades and re-programming, sir, I'm not feeling overly threatened."_

Tony glared at the cameras inside the confined space. "Are _you_ arguing with me? Of all… people…"

_"I am merely pointing out the illogical, inconsistent side of your threats, sir. Mr. Odinson is in the living room,"_ he changed the subject smoothly as the elevator stopped.

Tony considered that as he moved to face his fellow Avenger. "Thundercracker, what can I do for you?" he called out when he finally got a look at Thor, standing all tall and noble by the windows, staring at Midtown spreading out beneath them.

Thor turned to look at him and nodded his head. "I understand you and Bruce Banner had an argument."

"Really, you figure?" Tony raised an eyebrow. He was fairly certain Thor had been standing there when he and Steve… well, Tony, mostly, talked. Argued. Shouted.

"Do you wish to unburden yourself?"

"No," Tony stated flatly. "Is that all? I'm busy."

"My friend," Thor spoke out before Tony could even begin to turn. Those two words lashed out like a whip, snapping Tony to attention. "We are concerned," Thor went on, a little less sharply yet clearly intent on completing whatever mission he had come out here on.

"It's none of your business," Tony sighed. "Just… leave me alone, please."

"Not before I know you are well," Thor insisted. "And not before I know you and Bruce will discuss this issue between you."

"I don't think talking's going to do it," Tony muttered.

Thor raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to go on.

Tony sighed and moved over to the bar. His hands were unsteady as he poured himself a drink and stared at the shot-glass afterwards, the whirling liquid distorting Thor's noble features as he gazed at the Asgardian through the liquor. "We had… creative differences," Tony attempted to explain. Thor still didn't seem to understand. "Bruce made a few ultimatums I'm not comfortable with, and stepped onto a territory he has no place in."

"A lovers' spat, or one between shield brothers?" Thor asked.

"Both," Tony sighed, threw back the drink and then poured himself another, mostly to give himself something to do other than stand there awkwardly while being interrogated by a Norse god. "I get that he's concerned, in the aftermath of Chicago, and I may have to admit the energy transfer from the arc reactor needs a little work, but it's a low blow to threaten destroying my suits if I don't do as he says and remove it." By the end of it, Tony reflected he was probably talking more to himself than Thor, rehashing the whole thing, but when he looked at the blue eyes, it seemed Thor understood what he was saying.

"He is concerned for your wellbeing?" Thor clarified.

"Yeah," Tony sighed. "Sort of, but… yeah."

"Ah," Thor nodded gravely. "I can relate to that – and that was why I volunteered to come and speak with you."

Tony raised an eyebrow at that, because he had _no_ idea how Thor ever related to anything that went on in Midgard.

"As you know, I am nigh immortal," Thor went on. "Yet after my banishment, I have come to care for many of you mortals – and often experience this crushing sense of fear that I cannot protect you. That in my absence, and even in my presence, those I have grown to call friends – and those I have grown to love – may be in grave danger and meet their end."

"That's life," Tony informed him.

"Yes," Thor said, so very sadly, "for you it is. But for me, it is a hard lesson to learn, and even harder to accept. I cannot say it to be the ultimate truth, but perhaps Bruce Banner, who is also protected by the monster inside him, has to face the terror of losing a person he cares about."

Tony considered that, and hated how much it made sense. "His broaching of the subject was just about as appealing as polished shit," he muttered, still angry.

Thor chuckled. "Your responses are ever so… colorful, my friend. That may be why his concern came across as insulting rather than what it truly is; you are not an easy man to negotiate with, especially when you feel you are not in the wrong – a fault I share, I'm afraid."

"Now you're just sweet-talking me," Tony huffed and threw back the drink he had been holding in his hand.

"Be that as it may," Thor said with equal humor, "I wish you would consider his fears and that he perhaps does not know how to approach them, any better than you know how to respond. I know my Jane is sometimes very… hard-headed. She tells me I smother her when my only intent is to ensure her safety."

Tony could totally see that happening, and when he tried to picture himself and Bruce instead… well, it kind of made sense, yet again. Beneath all that anger and fear lurked something deeper – something to do with that accursed word Bruce had just _thrown_ out there, knowing it would be a low enough blow to bring Tony in line. Despite all his tantrums and sulking at the Tower, Tony knew that the inevitable loomed ahead of him, whether Thor had chosen to come and talk to him or not. With this nice little discussion, the process was simply speeded along, instead of allowing Tony to wallow in his anger and self-pity until he figured it out for himself.

"Thanks… I guess," Tony finally mused, debating on another drink but then deciding against it.

Thor merely nodded, then picked up his hammer. "Do you require anything else?"

"Sleep," Tony chuckled. "And… can you do me a favor?" he looked towards the Asgardian. "Make sure Bruce doesn't bolt. I'll be around later today, once I've cleared my head."

Thor nodded. "We shall keep the good doctor distracted." Then he simply walked out and took off across the sky, heading back down to the Mansion.

Tony sighed and leaned heavily against the bar, placing his face against his folded arms. He felt like he could fall asleep right there, if given the chance.

_"I'm very proud of you, sir,"_ J.A.R.V.I.S. mused dryly.

"Cut the commentary," Tony muttered. "You're pushing it; how would you like to operate coffee machines for the rest of your existence?"

_"Seeing as I already make your coffee, sir, I don't see the difference."_

Tony chuckled, huffed, then pushed himself up and headed to his bedroom. It was empty and the clean sheets didn't smell of Bruce at all, which made it strange to lie down. "Wake me up in five hours," he ordered the AI, then rolled over and pressed his face into a pillow, determined that half-suffocating himself would make him fall asleep faster.

Whether or not that was true, he was unconscious in minutes.

* * *

As ordered, J.A.R.V.I.S. woke him up five hours later.

Tony methodically showered, put on fresh clothes and then took one of the cars and drove to the Avengers Mansion. He even stopped at a drive-through to get something to eat, munching on a sandwich and sipping coffee as he made his way up to the main floor.

Much like last night, four Avengers were present in the living room, looking up at him with varying expressions. No one said anything; Thor merely nodded and gave Tony the slightest smile before focusing on the program on TV. It had to do with cooking and Tony expected he might have to either fix or replace some of the kitchen appliances in the next few days if Thor once again attempted to master Midgardian culinary skills. He wasn't getting on _Master Chef_ anytime soon, other than perhaps because of the fact that he was an Avenger.

Tony finished munching on the bread and licked his fingers clean, dumping the wrappings in a garbage bin he passed in the hallway. "Where's Bruce?" he asked J.A.R.V.I.S.

_"In his lab,"_ the AI replied.

Tony nodded and went downstairs. He wasn't sure if he could do this – and do it right – but he knew dragging it out wouldn't work either. "Did he attempt to leave?" he asked, despite fearing the answer.

_"No,"_ J.A.R.V.I.S. responded. _"After having a… disturbing dream, he's been working and hasn't come out of the lab since you left the Mansion."_

Tony wondered if that was better or worse than Bruce trying to bolt out of the country. Then again, he had been the one to face off against Tony with a whole lot of demands, so why would Bruce leave?

Taking a deep breath, Tony opened the door. It wouldn't help him to think of how bad Bruce's words had hurt – or how deep they had burrowed. "Hey," he called out, in case Bruce was so engrossed in his work he hadn't heard him come in.

The other man looked up, glasses on his nose, wearing yesterday's clothes and appearing quite surprised. "I didn't know you were back," Bruce mused, taking off the glasses. There were red marks on the sides of his nose, signaling that he had been here just as long and working just as intently as J.A.R.V.I.S. had implied.

Tony just hummed, uncertain of what he wanted to say. He didn't feel like he should apologize, not really, but clearly he was supposed to say _something_.

Bruce was waiting, a guarded look on his face. The tension was there, too, familiar from when they first met and Bruce still saw enemies and threats everywhere. He still did, of course, but at least in Tony's company he was a little less tightly wound.

"Okay," Tony started with a deep exhale, "last night was…"

"Horrible," Bruce stated.

"Agreed," Tony didn't miss a beat. "Not that I started it."

Bruce's fingers tightened slightly around the arm of his glasses. A little more and he might snap it in two, or bend it beyond repair.

Tony threw up his hands, in an apology for trying to take that path, then retracted and tried again: "I was informed that there is a possibility of you being worried about my health."

The other man raised an eyebrow. "You had to be _informed_? My telling you that didn't convince you?"

Tony frowned at him. "I was a little pre-occupied with the other stuff you were spitting at me, so…" He took another deep breath before they were right back where they finished last night. "I've been made aware," he restarted, "that due to your rather impervious, indestructible condition, you may feel extra pressured to protect me, because clearly I'm not a gamma irradiated rage monster who cannot be… who's very _hard_ to destroy."

"Go on," Bruce said slowly, on the border of taking offense but refusing to react just yet.

"Clearly I don't take orders very well, especially when they're directed at being Iron Man, or the suit," Tony pressed forward, eyes flying across the lab, arms moving, and he wasn't even aware of most of it while he tried to see where he was going with this; to find the path that led them back to a peaceful co-existence. "There have always been people who tried to influence me, force me, or trick me. While I know you're not one of those people, I… Just don't do that again, please?" he finally stopped and met Bruce's eyes.

"How do you know I'm not one of those people?" Bruce challenged him. "And even if I understand the problem, I still refuse to back down on what I asked you to do – for your _own_ sake."

Tony's fingers curled against his palms. He tried not to grow tense, although it was inevitable. "I can make my own decisions," he stated. "There may be plenty of arguments against that, but mostly…" This wasn't going very well, he could see that. Bruce was still tense – tenser, if possible – and that wasn't good either. "You told me last night that you… that it wasn't… that there was more to it than what's best for _me_."

Bruce's expression softened slightly. "I wish I hadn't used that word," he said.

Tony wasn't certain if a blood vessel broke in his brain or why it felt like his entire world fractured, just slightly. "Okay, that's… good to know," he mused.

The other man twitched, almost as if someone had shocked him, and Bruce placed his glasses on the table before moving towards Tony in hurried steps. "No, no," he chanted, "I didn't mean it like that," Bruce said frantically. "God, I… I meant it, of course I _meant_ it," he insisted, stopping right in front of Tony and the touch of his hands on Tony's face shouldn't have made him feel so relieved.

"So… your demands have at least as much to do with your need to keep me safe as they do with my wellbeing in general?" Tony pressed.

"Why is that distinction so important to you?" Bruce frowned. "They're the one and the same. If you're okay, then… then I'm okay. We're okay. And more importantly, you're not dying because of some stupid idea –"

"Unfinished, not stupid," Tony corrected. "My brain doesn't come up with _stupid_ things. Genius, remember?"

"It's hazardous to your health and potentially deadly," Bruce said flatly. "If you can't see it, then I'll keep pointing it out to you."

"Because you want me to be safe," Tony pressed.

"Yes," Bruce rolled his eyes.

"Because you love me…" Tony's voice faded away around the middle of that sentence, but he mouthed the words, lips moving, eyed burning again.

"Yes," Bruce agreed, his fingers sliding along Tony's face, spreading wider, hold firmer. "I love you."

Tony looked at him. He knew his eyes were ridiculously wide, because he could feel it, and they were probably wetter than was called for, and his entire body felt like it was going into a rather painful seizure, only nothing was happening. "I'm… I'll try to work on it," he promised. "I have never really been in a position where I have to accept the ideas, feelings, needs and opinions of another person. It's… not easy," he admitted.

Thinking back to his time with Pepper – the most significant relationship of his life – Tony guessed one of the reasons it hadn't worked was that he never let her that close. There had always been things between them, obstructing and grinding, and part of him knew Pepper couldn't have dealt with it. Nor should she, because that kind of burden was… not something ordinary people should have to carry on their shoulders, and in their minds and hearts.

"I know I have to let that happen," Tony went on, looking at Bruce, the nearness of him almost making him dizzy. "I have to let you protect me, like I'll always try to protect you."

Bruce's thumb traced across his cheek and Tony wondered if he was crying and not noticing, but he didn't feel wetness and the thumb moved back into place in the middle of his cheek. Bruce's expression was cracking, as if he were closer to tears than Tony was, and then he was too close to watch, his lips on Tony's, hands moving further across his face to cradle his head.

When they finally pulled apart, Tony felt their breaths mingle between their faces and then Bruce laughed. "How you've convinced the world that you're a suave playboy, I have no idea."

Tony laughed back at him, opening his eyes. "Game face, my dear Watson; never play poker with me."

Bruce nodded, then moved one hand down from his neck to pull him closer by the waist – not that they could be standing any closer. "Come to bed with me," Bruce whispered in his ear, and Tony swore he felt light-headed because all his blood, literally, shot down between his legs.

"Whatever you say, Doctor," Tony whispered back and then Bruce was pulling him out into the hallway and over to the stairs, never completely severing contact between them, and if they happened to cross Clint on the way up to their room, neither of them paid him any mind.

The sheets were rumpled on the bed, pushed to the side in obvious hurry. Tony briefly recalled J.A.R.V.I.S. mentioning Bruce had been dreaming – which either meant a nightmare, or the other kind. "Did you dream of me?" Tony asked, and when Bruce looked at him with unmistakably hungry eyes, Tony got his answer. The next second Bruce was tugging off Tony's clothes and Tony complied, sighing at the cooler air on his skin. He managed a few tugs at Bruce's pants before he was pushed onto the bed and the other man followed, still mostly clothed, and Tony wasn't sure how far they would get today, considering everything.

The Hulk had been so close to the surface he doubted much was going to happen.

"How clean are you?" Bruce asked.

"What?" Tony frowned, not following. He wasn't stained with oil streaks, that much Bruce could see for himself, but before he could crack the code, Bruce had moved down, urged Tony's legs up and over his shoulders, which was kind of sudden, and then his hot exhales were so close to the most sensitive spots of his body that Tony's mind froze in anticipation.

His eyes closed and hands fisted the sheet desperately as Bruce's mouth was suddenly there, but not where Tony had expected it – not in a million years. Bruce pushed forward slightly, reaching up to tug Tony's legs further apart without dislodging them while his head didn't move an inch. A wet, firm tongue dove out and Tony stared at the ceiling, letting out a loud gasp of air and he couldn't hold the sheets tight enough, couldn't stop his legs from trembling and the build-up was happening way too fast.

He barely got a hand onto his hard cock before it was over, in an embarrassingly short time. Thirty seconds, give or take. Tony threw his head back and tried not to kick Bruce, who was holding his upper thighs and left him with a parting lick.

"Fuck," Tony finally managed.

Bruce lowered Tony's body onto the bed and sat there between his spread thighs, a small smile on his face.

"Do you want to…?" Tony started to ask and tried to gesture with his hand but eventually allowed the limb to flop back down onto the mattress like a dead jellyfish.

Bruce kept smiling and shook his head, then wordlessly got up and went to the bathroom. Tony heard running water, then the sound of the other man rinsing his mouth, and he decided not to be grossed out. Bruce returned a while later and climbed back onto the bed, plopping down next to Tony in all his dressed glory. Tony couldn't find the will to complain in his blissed out state, simply curling an arm around Bruce's neck and pulling him into a sloppy, lazy kiss.

"I take it you approve," Bruce murmured after a bit.

"You might have to work for it next time," Tony smiled. "I'm not always so quickly pleased." His fingers carded through Bruce's hair, their noses brushing.

They stayed like that for a long while, letting the tension of the previous day drain out of them.

The spell had to be broken, however, and Bruce did it by sliding his hand across the arc reactor, fingers teasing the surrounding scars to let Tony know he was there. "You're going to do it, right?" Bruce asked. His voice was quiet, gentle, but the underlying hardness was undeniable. Depending on Tony's answer, they would be right where they'd started – or somewhere else.

"Yes," Tony replied. "I'll work around it. I am a genius, after all…"

Bruce's answering smile was happy and sad at the same time, but his next kiss spoke of the love his words had so perfectly conveyed earlier.

The hand remained on top of the arc reactor, making a statement, and Tony knew he had to let himself change – grow – to allow that to become another constant in his life. It scared him, but it filled him with a sweet expectancy as well; so natural; so beautiful and wounded – ready to morph into another form of existence.

Bruce leaned close again, lips moving against Tony's neck. No sound came out, but he knew each syllable:

'I love you'.

_to be continued…_

* * *

**Author's note:** Also check out pretty art by **_feriowind_**, drawn especially for this chapter!  
**AO3**: archiveofourown . 0rg /works/751376  
**Tumblr**: feriowind . tumblr . c0m /post/47343855029


	22. Chapter 21: Breathing Easy

**Author's note:** Another "extra" chapter that I just _had_ to write in the aftermath of the last few chapters. Enjoy the fluff!

(Also, Tony's listening to _Marilyn Manson_'s _mOBSCENE_ when Steve visits the workshop. Just throwing it out there…)

* * *

**Chapter 21: Breathing Easy**

* * *

When they finally rolled out of bed, it was noon and the other Avengers were spread around the Mansion. That meant Bruce and Tony had the kitchen to themselves. In between breakfast preparations – although they probably could have jumped straight to lunch – they would drift past each other, and more often than not it would lead to a lingering brush of bodies or a soft kiss.

Bruce noted at some point that at this rate they might starve, but if Tony wanted to press against him, fingers caressing the hem of Bruce's shirt and slipping beneath to the sensitive skin, who was Bruce to tell him no? Especially when it felt almost therapeutic to run his hands along Tony's body in return, the curve of his spine, the dip of his lower back and his ass…

"I'm hungry," Tony finally announced out loud, the movement of his teeth releasing Bruce's lower lip where he had been holding it almost thoughtfully. He completed his statement with a kiss, tongue swiping over said lip before he pulled back.

Bruce smiled and turned Tony around, towards the table, and proceeded to get his cup of tea and Tony's coffee. They sat down next to each other, digging in at the same lazy pace they had used for everything this morning.

Inside, Bruce felt a bit giddy. He had been happy to clear the air with Tony last night, getting rid of the oppressive tension that his demands had created, throwing their relationship into a tailspin. To actually hear Tony open up and confess his shortcomings in a relationship explained things that Bruce should have probably sensed, but at least they were on the same wavelength now.

With that taken care of, Bruce wondered if it had been necessary to repeat his confession of love like that. He knew Tony had caught the word the first time, but when the relief had flooded him, that they were okay… it had blindsided him completely. He didn't regret it, not really. Tony seemed happier, certainly, and Bruce could only agree.

"Ah, you are up!" Thor called out loudly as he entered the kitchen.

Bruce lifted his eyes to acknowledge him, while Tony just shrugged while munching on his toast.

"You seem to have found equilibrium," the Asgardian hummed as he raided the fridge for his favorite juice. He opened a fresh carton and drank straight from it – no one bothered to complain since he would end up drinking the whole thing anyway, usually in one sitting.

"Yup," Tony replied shortly, but he didn't sound annoyed. Bruce wondered if Tony's conclusion had anything to do with Thor, of all people.

Thor nodded with approval.

Clint walked in next, taking a glass and pouring himself some orange juice. "Are we feeling less grumpy today?" he asked.

Tony rolled his eyes.

"I think I'm allowed to ask," Clint pointed a finger at Tony. "We live in the same house, which, while being rather spacious, can still be considered shared premises, and I would rather not have your PMSing –"

"That's enough," Bruce cut him off.

Clint just shrugged and left the kitchen.

"The Hawk is merely concerned since Tony was quite upset the last time they saw each other," Thor noted.

Bruce glanced at his lover and raised an eyebrow. Tony actually looked a bit guilty. "I may have made a few unsavory remarks… mostly at Cap, however."

"None of us took it to heart," Thor reassured, then clasped both their shoulders in a hold that could easily bruise if prolonged. "Now, I must meet my Lady Jane for a… chat," he stated, tasting the word. "I believe your disembodied servant is helping me do that." He took his juice carton and left the room as well.

"My what?" Tony frowned.

_"I believe Mr. Odinson was referring to me, sir,"_ J.A.R.V.I.S. offered. _"I'm helping him establish a video chat connection with Ms. Foster in approximately six minutes."_

"Sounds romantic," Tony teased with a heavy dose of sarcasm.

_"I am hardly in any position to cast a personified opinion, but taken into consideration the previous calls between Mr. Odinson and Ms. Foster, I would categorize it as 'romantic',"_ J.A.R.V.I.S. observed. _"Not very much unlike yourself and Dr. Banner."_

Bruce chuckled.

Tony pointed an accusing finger at him. "Don't encourage him!"

"He's your AI," Bruce shot back.

"Yeah, but he had no calling to become some horrible mix of Oprah and Dr. Phil before you all came along," Tony muttered.

_"To be exact, sir –"_

"If your response isn't likely to please me, J.A.R.V.I.S., don't say it," Tony warned.

_"Very well, sir,"_ the AI fell silent.

"Now you're just being rude to him," Bruce accused softly.

"He's _my_ AI; I can be as rude to him as I want," Tony huffed. "He doesn't mind." However, it seemed he was feeling a minimal pang of guilt, and would probably make it up to J.A.R.V.I.S. by giving him new relays or a memory boost.

Bruce made no verbal comment but he offered Tony the last slice of apple; the other man took it without hesitation and popped it into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully, mind already two steps ahead of breakfast. From experience, Bruce knew their quiet, gentle, intimate moment was over now that Tony's brain was really up and running. It wasn't an actual loss, though, and Bruce decided he might join Tony in his lab and just watch him work.

It was another type of therapy, after all, at least for him. And if Tony thought he was keeping watch to make sure he removed that dangerous arc reactor function from his suit, Bruce could prove him wrong by initiating phase two of kissing – which had a way of turning into more than just kissing, but he didn't currently see that as a downside.

* * *

Tony was listening to some obscene song when Steve entered his Mansion workshop. After all, it was less like the lab spaces he and Bruce often shared, more concentrated in actual engineering that Tony appeared to love and thrive in.

"You wanted to see me?" Steve called out over the noise.

Tony was… well, he was gyrating to the music, not outright dancing – especially not with a blowtorch in his hand – looking rather relaxed. The brunette's head whipped around, as if he actually heard him, and he made a motion for the music to cease and even turned off the tool. "Indeed I did," Tony replied, brushing a dirty arm over his sweaty forehead. Judging by the trails of smudges on both body parts, he had been doing that a lot recently.

Steve looked around. He had expected Bruce to be hanging around, but clearly the man wasn't in the workshop after all.

"I had to send Bruce away," Tony mused, as if guessing what he was looking for. "He was becoming a distraction." Tony's mouth twisted, as if he couldn't believe he was saying that.

Steve just nodded, accepting it. He had heard the two were back on good terms, and he was glad. Tony's outburst two days ago had been a clear sign that their relationship had dived into deeper waters – which meant the stakes were higher, too.

Tony turned back to his work – his suit, most likely, although it had been laid bare and save for the pieces of red casing lying close by, it was impossible to tell which part of the armor it was and what Tony was doing to it. Silence grew between them, not heavy and stifling but making Steve wonder if Tony had forgotten he was there.

"I wanted to apologize," Tony finally spoke up, looking up at a screen, tapping at it, then making a dragging motion to bring the screen _outside_ the monitor and enlarging it in the air in front of him. It was all so casual and looked like magic, making it hard for Steve to focus on Tony's words.

"What?" he finally asked.

Tony looked at him, a slight frown on his face, as if he was trying to figure out whether he was being tricked, attacked or if Steve was just slow. "I said certain things I shouldn't have, in a moment of anger not directed at you," Tony went on, glancing back at the holographic screen, then returned his attention to Steve. "It was not… professionally acceptable." It sounded like something Pepper Potts had beaten into his head, repeatedly.

"Apology accepted," Steve finally forced himself to react. "Although it's not necessary –"

"Of course it is!" Tony snapped. "Don't… don't belittle it and think I can't tell." He looked at the screen again, probably to give himself something to do other than stare at Steve. "I recall the pleasant little chat we had on the Helicarrier, close to our first meeting. While most people like to blame Loki's gizmo for certain verbal accusations that were presented that day… We've fought since day one, and most of those things I should probably apologize for. So, take this one and try not to rub it in my face," he finally decided.

Steve nodded and fought the smile that tried to make its way to his lips. "I'll take what I can get, then," he accepted, trying to sound disappointed, because that was probably what Tony was going for. Frankly, he was surprised Tony even had it in him to apologize, for this of all things. If Tony had found the will to do it, however, and thought it important enough to bring up on his own, Steve was going to accept it gracefully – or ungracefully, if that's what Tony preferred.

Tony shrugged and stared intently at the screen. It seemed his mind was focusing on it again, for real, and Steve begun to turn, guessing they were done here.

"You know," Tony started suddenly, before he could get to the door, "if I was totally against you, Cap, I wouldn't hang around, being an Avenger. Just sayin'."

That little confession meant more to Steve than most things Tony ever said. He nodded stiffly and left before either of them was compelled or forced to say anything else.

When he ascended the stairs, he ran into Bruce coming out of one of his own lab spaces – the one he had sort of blown up some time ago. The scientist gave him one of his easy, small smiles – another testament to the fact that his and Tony's reconciliation was working miracles on them both. "Captain, what are you doing down here?"

That prompted Steve to entertain the small voice of doubt that had entered his mind when Tony first started talking. "I was visiting Tony, actually," he informed his teammate.

"Really?" Bruce seemed surprised.

"I take it, then, that you didn't encourage him to talk to me," Steve pressed.

Bruce's face went unreadable for a second, perhaps as a result of trying to steel himself against whatever came next. "No, I did not," he answered.

This time, Steve gave up the fight against the smile. "Okay. That's… what I sort of hoped for," he decided. It had been a possibility that Bruce had encouraged Tony to apologize, but the fact that he hadn't… It meant so much more to him.

"What did you talk about?" Bruce asked quickly, following Steve up the stairs.

"You'll have to ask Tony," Steve replied, knowing how uncomfortable such a small gesture had made Tony and not wanting to go behind his back, telling people that Tony Stark actually took into account, on occasion, the feelings of others.

* * *

"It hasn't been three hours yet," Tony called out the moment the door opened and J.A.R.V.I.S.'s security log, open in one corner of the screen, told him it was Bruce. "I'm not done yet and I can't have you… staring… What?" he turned around and looked at the other man, _feeling_ the weight of his eyes on him, that impressive mind working at full capacity to figure something out – to figure Tony out.

"You talked to Steve," Bruce started.

Tony steeled himself. "I might have," he answered evasively. Why had he thought Steve could be discreet about it?

"He didn't say anything," Bruce added, as if seeing it on Tony's face. Well, he probably did. The man read him way too easily these days, but the only consolation was that it worked both ways.

"No?" Tony arched an eyebrow. "Then why the surprise visit?"

"I don't think I've ever seen the good Captain _smile_ after he's talked to you," his boyfriend pressed.

Tony really tried to fight the grin. "Maybe I told him I was quitting the Avengers?"

"Bullshit," Bruce called his bluff, moving closer. "What did you tell him?" he pressed, circling slightly to block his exit when Tony shifted to the side.

"It was a private conversation," Tony dodged.

Bruce's eyes narrowed, but his expression was still bright, as if he rather liked this problem since it didn't include any… dangerous features, for once. After a moment he let out a frustrated sigh and crossed his arms over his chest, then restlessly straightened them again. "I've got nothing," he confessed.

"Keep at it," Tony encouraged. "Maybe you'll figure it out – eventually."

"Or I'll just hack J.A.R.V.I.S. to see the feed from the lab," Bruce countered.

"Oh, please! You can hack into many things, Dr. Banner, but my AI isn't one of them," Tony teased, moving over to him. Bruce's restlessness partially left him as his hands moved to rest on Tony's sides, warm and firm. Tony pressed close to him, meeting his eyes. "I don't kiss and tell…"

"Maybe I'll just have to torture it out of you, then," Bruce mused, pretending to go dark, yet his eyes didn't adopt the dangerous edge and his voice didn't manage to hold onto the edge for long. "Let's trade," he offered then.

"I'm listening," Tony grinned.

"I will… let you suck me off again," Bruce murmured, "and you tell me what you and Steve talked about."

Tony considered it. "Is that your best offer, Dr. Banner?"

"I can reduce it to a hand job," Bruce warned.

"Maybe you should try and pry the information out of our fearless leader."

"I'll have better luck trying to force it out of you," his lover corrected. It was probably true: Steve guarded his secrets with something that wasn't old-fashioned but rather a personal trait. As if gossiping would somehow make him unworthy of being Captain America.

"Okay," Tony let out a deep sigh. "Blow job it is, but I refuse to look you in the eye while I do it and am not going to moan whorishly while I'm at it," he said seriously – or as seriously as he could, given their ridiculous negotiations. "I'm definitely going below the price here."

"So," Bruce pressed, pushing Tony slightly backwards; clearly he had a destination in mind. "What did you talk about?"

"I may have apologized to him, about my most recent bout of tactless commentary."

"That's it?" Bruce frowned.

"I also may or may not have insinuated that I don't hate him, as a leader, on the field," Tony gave up the rest of it.

The other man considered this piece of news quietly for a moment, then nodded. "I would say I'm incredibly proud of you, and happy since I was afraid you were lying to yourself about it as much as you were to everyone else, but I know that would be inappropriate."

"Very inappropriate," Tony agreed. "I might have to reconsider our recent deal."

"A deal's a deal," Bruce insisted, and finally he nailed the edge, too; if Tony didn't know what was going on and whom he was dealing with, he would have thought things were about to turn very ugly very soon. The non-consensual kind of ugly. As it was, when Bruce's next words came, Tony was more than ready for his end of the deal: "On your knees."

Tony had enough patience to not bruise his kneecaps as he lowered himself. Bruce shifted, opening his pants, shifting them low enough to maneuver. One of his hands landed on Tony's head, curling around to frame his face and pulling Tony closer, against his leg so that one side of his face was pressed against Bruce's upper thigh – with an unrestricted view at the other man pulling on his flesh, leisurely, at a comfortable pace Tony knew so well.

Bruce's hand caressed Tony's face and held it with enough pressure that Tony couldn't entertain any ideas of trying to help Bruce along. There were still rules, too, that both of them followed without failure, and as long as there was no condom, Tony wasn't going to touch any part of Bruce's genitalia with his mouth – and preferably not with his hands, either. While he may have been willing to slip up on that rule, just a little, he knew it was there for a reason and he wasn't going to agitate Bruce by breaking it.

So, he watched, seeing the slight change of texture as blood rushed forth, the faint increase of strength in the squeeze of Bruce's fingers, the first sign of wetness quickly spread across the tip…

Tony was aware of his own breaths speeding up although his body was still relatively relaxed. It was still rare that they both found satisfaction at the same time; too much of their focus was often diverted from where it was needed, rather than where it was wanted, and that was another line he knew not to cross if Bruce wasn't initiating it. There were harder ways to make Bruce withdraw back to where he'd been when it first became clear he was attracted to Tony. As impatient as he occasionally felt, Tony tried to find satisfaction in the small details, from which there were many to choose.

Bruce took his time, building it up, then finally moved his hand, searching for something. The fact that he dug a condom from his back pocket made Tony smile and nuzzle against his leg, then he lifted his hands in time to accept the small packet, opening it carefully and then shifting to roll it on. Bruce's hands remained much as they were – one still pressing Tony's face to his thigh and the other holding himself still as Tony overcame the awkward angle and finished rolling on the thicker-than-average latex.

Tony was aware of the rise and fall of Bruce's chest and the slight change of pace and depth in each movement. The hand on his face was steady, however, still kind of cupping his cheek as he finally allowed Tony to move and pleasure him instead of his own hand.

They had done this before, but usually with more preparation. This either meant Bruce felt relaxed enough to engage in such activities in the middle of Tony's shop, out of the blue – or he was determined to knock down some of his personal reservations. Either way, Tony still took it easy with each drag of his tongue and tug of his lips. As he had promised, he didn't look at Bruce's face, trusting the other man to signal him if he needed a break.

Bruce's hand hadn't moved from his head, resting there at first then beginning a certain caressing motion, thumb dragging against Tony's facial hair in perfect synch with the relaxing of his jaw while the other fingers were caught behind his ear, nails not scratching but teasing the line of hair. It gave them both something else to think about, a minute distraction from the act itself. The hand Bruce had used to stroke himself was still there, at the base, past the layer of latex, not interfering but still hovering close by to participate in the action in a roundabout way – like a voyeur.

Then those fingers moved down, beneath and beyond Tony's line of sight when he opened his eyes, sensing the motion. Bruce groaned, pushing slightly then using the hand on Tony's face to push him off and to the side as his body released the tension it had slowly been building.

Tony watched and waited, the fingers on the side of his head never tightening, yet they stayed still there it was over. "Good?" Tony finally asked, licking his lips carefully.

"Yeah," Bruce replied and removed his hand, disappearing to the small adjoining bathroom.

Tony remained on the floor, sagging slightly, swaying to a tune only he could hear in his head. There had been a time when he would have scoffed at this simple act that brought him no direct satisfaction. But, as he knelt there, he felt more relaxed than he had perhaps the entire day, as if they had both just come.

When Bruce re-entered the workshop, his clothes suggested nothing at all had happened and his hands smelled of the heavy-duty soap Tony had sitting in the bathroom. The warm, clean fingers framed his face and Tony lifted his body somewhat, meeting Bruce's lips in a kiss. It was slow, most of the time involving Bruce's tongue either on his lips or mouth – depicting an act, at least in Tony's mind, that both of them were looking for.

One day…

Today, of all days, Tony was more certain than ever that it was coming. He just had to stay alive long enough to be around, and make sure nothing compromised this awfully fragile yet tightly intertwined relationship of theirs.

_to be continued…_


	23. Chapter 22: Super-dating

**Chapter 22: Super-dating**

* * *

"There you are, my friends!" Thor bellowed when Tony and Bruce surfaced from the lab. Tony had half a mind to urge Bruce to come to bed with him, to nap or sleep, he didn't particularly care, but clearly that was not happening.

"Is something wrong?" Tony asked, because sometimes it was hard to tell with Thor; he embraced battles almost as fiercely as team bonding moments, so whether they were facing another disaster or someone had announced tonight's take out, it wasn't instantly clear.

"Nay," Thor shook his head at once. "I have good news indeed – a proposition."

Bruce raised an eyebrow, cautiously. "Go on. I mean, I assume it involves both of us?"

"Indeed," Thor nodded enthusiastically. "My lady Jane came up with the most exciting idea. At least I suspect it to be such, for she seemed quite pleased with it. J.A.R.V.I.S., what is the term Jane used?" he asked, glancing at the ceiling.

_"Dr. Foster suggested you have a double date, Mr. Odinson,"_ J.A.R.V.I.S. replied through the nearby speakers. _"With Mr. Stark and Dr. Banner."_

"Ah, yes," the Asgardian grinned. "She explained to me this is customary between two couples who are also friends."

Tony knew that in his eagerness, it would be very hard to turn Thor away from the idea, seeing as this was yet another thing he had still to learn about Midgardians, as he so often called them. It was probably better than most alternatives though, like 'earthlings'.

Instead of arguing, Tony glanced at Bruce, who seemed slightly taken aback by this new turn of events. "Well, I suppose," the scientist started. "Jane is in New Mexico, though, isn't she? Do we have the time to go down there?"

"She said she has business here, so she is coming to New York City," Thor smiled. "I will inform her that you are willing to participate in this double date."

"We didn't –" Tony started, but then felt Bruce's hand on his arm and stopped mid-sentence, looking at the other man. "Did we agree to this?"

Bruce shrugged. "How bad can it be? After all, we haven't even had a real date yet."

That made Tony feel a bit guilty, but they couldn't just go out and enjoy themselves – Tony being a public figure, and Bruce probably not appreciating the gesture if Tony booked the two of them an entire restaurant for the night to avoid distractions from the adoring public. While Tony would call some of their nights together at least half-dates, Bruce was probably right: it was about time they had a date.

Thor was still standing there, as if making sure the verdict was still the same. Tony looked at the big blond and shrugged. "Sure, we'll do this. Let us know when Jane's in town, okay?"

"Excellent," Thor grinned and slapped them both on the shoulder before turning and leaving them standing in the middle of the hallway.

"This has the potential to be very awkward," Tony warned Bruce.

"She's a scientist, isn't she? The worst that can happen is that we end up talking shop all night with Thor drinking himself under the table in boredom," Bruce shrugged.

"I never knew you were into this kind of thing," Tony pressed.

"I'm… not. At least I don't think I am. But I didn't want to hurt Thor's feelings."

Tony tried to hide his smile. "You're such a softie."

Bruce elbowed him and marched off down the hallway, pretending to be offended, but the way he settled his arm around Tony when the other man caught up with him suggested there were no hurt feelings.

* * *

It was a week later when Thor informed them that Jane would be arriving in New York City.

There had been nothing earth-shattering taking place during that week, although Tony had gone out on a few solo missions and half of the team did the same on their own. The world didn't end every other weekend, after all, so they used this down-time to train, recuperate and do whatever they wanted – or in Tony's case, work, manage his company and try to keep up with everything that needed keeping up with, which was a lot.

They had opted to have the date at the Stark Tower, to give them a little privacy. Tony had made arrangements for food, and had a car pick Jane up from the airport, to make sure she arrived safely and without hassle.

Thor was ecstatic, regardless of the fact that he had been in and out of New Mexico to see her. Between Asgard and Earth, though, he saw her too little and this was a big deal to Thor, clearly. He had even asked Bruce about what was considered appropriate attire on the double date, and Tony kept quiet, but only because he wanted to hear Bruce's reply:

"Something casual," Bruce had shrugged. "But, you know, not too casual. We're staying in, but it's still a date." He had thrown Tony a look at that point, as if to ask for his input, but Tony pretended to be more engrossed in his tablet than he actually was. It wasn't a black-tie kind of situation, for sure, but the more time Bruce spent trying to figure out what to tell Thor, the more uneasy he seemed, no doubt second-guessing whatever he had planned on wearing. It was kind of adorable, in the same way that watching animal babies overcome an obstacle was.

"Just wear clean jeans, maybe a button-down shirt," Tony finally took pity on them both. "And a jacket. Definitely a jacket."

Thor frowned, as did Bruce. "What kind of jacket? And aren't we going to be indoors?" the scientist finally asked.

"It's a thing. You don't have to wear it as much as, you know, keep it on a while and then take it off."

"And you are certain these articles of clothing are appropriate for this situation?" Thor pressed.

Tony glanced up from his tablet. "Okay, let's ask Jane when she arrives. If she wants to go the whole nine yards with champagne, black tie, candles and a pianist in the background, we'll do that. Although I'm pretty sure neither of you has the wardrobe for that," he added. Both men were looking increasingly worried, Thor even more so, clearly debating whether his Asgardian dress would suffice on such short notice.

"Relax," Tony finally huffed. "From what I know of Jane Foster, she probably doesn't even own a dress, so… jeans will be good."

It didn't remove the frown from Thor's face, but at least they stopped debating what to wear and headed out to their respective rooms to raid their closets. And Bruce's was decently full after all the clothes Tony had been slipping in there lately.

* * *

Jane's flight was on time, and she decided to meet them at the Mansion, after which the two couples could drive over to the Tower. Thor had taken Tony's advice, dressed in a button-down shirt that was probably one of the few Tony had gotten for him, as well as the rest of the team – well, not Romanoff, but she had a few pairs of nice shoes courtesy of Tony's checking account.

Bruce had been busy for most of the afternoon, which made Tony slightly concerned that he may have forgotten about their plans, but when Bruce emerged, he was looking very sharp; he had shaved and washed his hair, and his clothes actually fit him for a change, instead of those horribly over-sized ones he kept buying if allowed to choose.

Tony considered it his right to choose _for_ Bruce, seeing as they were together and he shared some closet-space with the man.

The other Avengers were somewhere in the building, knowing that Jane was about to arrive but not stressing about it since she wasn't here to see them, per se. Of course Rogers had made sure to tell everyone to look and behave their best when Thor's lady-friend was present, for which he had received several eye-rolls. However, Tony suspected everyone had cleaned up at least a little bit.

Tony himself was looking dapper, of course. He had showered and trimmed his goatee to perfection, dressed in clean clothes which were designer, of course, but still looked casual. Just… expensive casual. There was a difference.

When the car finally arrived and Thor went outside to meet Jane, she wasn't the only one who exited the vehicle, but Dr. Erik Selvig and another woman alighted as well.

"Erik, Darcy, this is a surprise," Thor greeted them after hugging Jane fiercely. He shook hands with Selvig, then got an armful of the young woman whom Tony suspected was Darcy Lewis.

"Hey, big guy! Ready to show us around the infamous Avengers lair?" Darcy grinned brightly.

"It is not a lair, but I shall, of course, give you a tour," Thor agreed.

Selvig looked around, then noticed Bruce and Tony standing just outside the doorway. "Ah, it's been a while, gentlemen," he said and stepped forward, shaking hands with both of them.

"Better circumstances this time, I hope," Tony replied. The last time they saw either other, it was in the aftermath of the Loki incident and Selvig had still been a bit out of sorts from being held in the grips of the Tesseract.

"Certainly," the astrophysicist agreed.

By that time Thor had guided the women closer and smiled broadly. "Meet Tony Stark and Bruce Banner, my fellow Avengers."

Jane Foster smiled shyly and her manner was just about as awkward as Tony had anticipated, yet it went well with Bruce's equally reserved smile and handshake. "I've heard a lot about you. I mean, as Avengers. It's an honor, and a pleasure." Her eyes briefly met Tony's. It was clear she knew exactly who he was – not that you needed to be a genius, or even a scientist, to know Tony's name.

"This trip is going to be epic," Darcy Lewis announced from the side. "Any chance I can try on the armor?"

"Darcy!" Jane hissed, "I told you, that's… not going to happen." She then offered Tony an apologetic look.

"The armor has a bio-signature so that not just anyone can put it on," Tony said easily. "Your test drive would be rather short-lived."

Darcy pursed her lips, then grinned immediately afterward. "I can still touch it, though? And take pictures?"

"Perhaps later," Thor hedged. "Shall we step inside?"

"Let's," Selvig agreed and they moved through the wide doors.

Darcy looked around for a bit, then turned to look at them as Tony shut the door firmly behind the group. Her eyes landed on Bruce. "So, you're the guy whom Tony Stark has gone gay for? Have you come up with a portmanteau name like Brangelina or TomKat yet?" she asked.

"Uh," was Bruce's only reply.

Tony rolled his eyes.

Jane looked increasingly troubled.

"How about that tour?" Thor suggested, clearly in an attempt to disarm the situation.

"Where are you staying during your trip?" Bruce asked Jane, obviously to take the discussion elsewhere when no one jumped at Thor's words.

"Well, Thor kind of offered for us to stay here," Jane started. "I'm sure we'll find a hotel, though –"

"No way! I've been psyched about this trip for days," Darcy complained.

"J.A.R.V.I.S., make sure there are rooms available," Tony noted.

_"Very well, sir. Will Dr. Foster be sharing Mr. Odinson's room, or shall I set one aside for her as well?"_

Jane blushed in the midst of her alarmed look. "Er…"

"Prep three rooms; she can choose for herself," Tony answered.

"Who's that?" Darcy asked, looking around the hallway.

"J.A.R.V.I.S., my AI," Tony replied.

"Ah, yes," Selvig nodded along. "Remarkable. He's very… human-like."

"It is very disconcerting until you get used to it," Thor agreed, "yet he is very helpful, for a machine."

Tony cleared his throat but Thor didn't catch it. Bruce gave him a look and shook his head a little, as if fearing Tony might want to lecture Thor on how J.A.R.V.I.S. was so much _more_ than a _machine_.

Thor led his entourage down the hall and Tony tapped a finger against his side where he had crossed his arms. "J, make sure the armors are safely locked away." He didn't want people pawing at them on a good day…

_"Of course, sir."_

"Actually, lock down the entire armory," Tony decided.

"At least she's a fan," Bruce said. "She certainly didn't want to see the other guy, or rub up against Cap's shield."

Tony guessed that was true. "That's because my armor is _so_ much cooler than all you guys combined," he grinned.

"That's the spirit," Bruce mused with an eye-roll.

They walked into the living room, sitting down to wait for Thor's tour to end. Tony poured himself a drink but knew better than to over-indulge, so he sat down with Bruce, guessing that since this was their first real date night, he might play the part of an indulgent boyfriend.

Bruce reached out for a newspaper folded on the table, found a puzzle and began to methodically fill it in. Tony continued to drink slowly, one arm draped on the back of the couch behind Bruce's shoulders, his eyes following the scratches of pen on the paper, watching the genius mind work its magic.

One puzzle, two sudokus and half a quiz later, Thor finally led his friends to the living room. "Ready to go?" Tony asked, looking up, fingers tracing a random pattern on Bruce's shoulder where he still had his arm flung on the back of the couch.

"Yes," Jane replied briskly. "Can I freshen up at the Tower? That's where we're going, right?"

"Yes, and yes," Tony nodded, getting up to put the empty glass away.

"I'll just grab my bag," Darcy announced.

"You cannot come," Thor said quickly but as kindly as possible. "This is between the four of us."

The young woman pouted. "Seriously? What am I going to do, sit here? Erik's already in his room, looking at some boring scientific journals he found lying around." Tony guessed those were subscriptions that came to the Mansion, both for his and Bruce's enjoyment, should they want to browse through them.

"I'm sure you'll figure something out," Jane smiled almost too sweetly, then looked at Thor eagerly, although there was still a somewhat shy undertone on her beautiful face. Thor really had no idea what kind of catch she was, with brains _and_ looks. "Shall we?" Jane prompted.

"My lady Jane," Thor bowed slightly, looking like some medieval knight even without his usual armor, extending his arm and allowing Jane to take it.

Tony simply glanced at Bruce and got to his feet as the scientist folded the paper and got up to follow the other couple. "I'll drive," Bruce offered. It probably had something to do with a desire to not sit idly rather than implying that Tony wasn't fit to drive after one drink.

Thor and Jane were standing outside when they walked out the main doors. "I'm sorry about Darcy," Jane started as they began walking towards the garage on the side. "She's very excited and more than just a little star-struck."

"I don't want to imagine what she would be like if she didn't know Thor," Tony mused, then tossed the car keys to Bruce, who caught them effortlessly and opened the doors. Since there were four of them, they couldn't take any of Tony's favorites. Well, he had managed to cram a respectable amount of young women in a convertible sports car in the past, but he imagined he had matured since then. Instead he slid into the passenger side front seat and gave Bruce a look as the man sat down and started the engine after Thor and Jane settled in the back.

"How's the traffic look?" Tony asked.

_"Not overwhelming, sir,"_ J.A.R.V.I.S.'s voice replied and a screen lit up on the dashboard, a map highlighting various routes to the Tower that were either blocked or more likely to get them there before the food got cold. Not that the food would get cold, but Tony didn't fancy spending the next couple hours sitting in a car, no matter how pleasant the company.

Bruce glanced at the screen then backed out to the road and took them through the gates. Tony was the one to drive, usually, and he could confess he often forgot Bruce was more than capable. Maybe Bruce had slightly stronger bouts of road rage if he got frustrated, but that went around in the normal population also, so it wasn't out of the ordinary…

"I hear you've been together for some time now," Jane started from the back, leaning forward a little, perhaps feeling like someone needed to keep the discussion going.

"This is our first official date, though," Bruce mused, glancing at the rear-view mirror and giving her a small smile.

"With another couple?"

"Any kind of date, really," Bruce confessed.

"Superheroing gets in the way of things," Tony summed up.

"I imagine it does," Jane nodded swiftly. Thor just smiled indulgently and leaned forward as well.

"They spend much time together, in their laboratories," the god of thunder mused. "It seems to fill their romantic needs on most days."

Bruce let out a very faint suffocating sound, no doubt depicting Thor's words in a different manner than the Asgardian meant them.

"It should definitely count as foreplay," Tony gave his boyfriend a shark smile and noted that he and Jane reacted much the same way.

"I've never thought of science that way," Jane mused.

"It's not like that," Bruce swiftly explained, shooting Tony a look then focused on the road again, taking a turn to the right to escape some heavy traffic ahead. "Tony likes to give incorrect impressions."

"I recall a few occasions," Tony began to defend himself.

"I'm sure they don't need to know about those," Bruce muttered.

Tony dropped the smirk, giving Bruce a reassuring look instead: he wasn't going to dissect their relationship in front of two people they didn't know that well. Certainly they both fought beside Thor, but that didn't mean he should be let into the deepest folds of their relationship. "I'm just yanking your chain," he said softly. "Relax, green bean."

"That's not helping," Bruce told him.

"Do you want me to take the wheel?" Tony inquired, in case Bruce needed a breather.

"No," Bruce huffed. "I'm fine. I think me crashing the car – or Hulking out and crashing the car – would be counter productive to the success of our first date."

"I agree," Jane piped up from the back.

Tony sat back and refrained from further commentary, knowing when to stop pushing for the next witty thing to say, in an attempt to scandalize another person. He didn't need to shock anyone tonight. Instead, he could focus on charming the pants off Bruce – both figuratively and literally.

* * *

**Stark Tower,  
several hours later**

Once they had gotten to the Tower and Tony had given Jane Foster the customary tour, she had changed into a dress and stopped looking quite so nervous. Thor was chivalrous, beaming at the chance to fill her every need and hang on her every word; it was clear he was enjoying this chance of spending time together in a romantic environment.

The food had been excellent, meaning Tony was going to generously tip the restaurant that had delivered it. The drinks, of course, being from Tony's own selection, were superb, and everything was going nicely. The music J.A.R.V.I.S. had picked wasn't too sweet or painful to listen to, including the crooning voice of Lana Del Rey, and the lights reflected the mood with a few candles sitting on the tables.

Bruce was in a good mood: when the discussion had begun to roll, he relaxed and became more animated, and while they spent a lot of time talking about science and Jane's work, they also tossed around normal topics. Thor didn't seem to mind any of it, and eventually they even talked about Asgard, as a smooth transition from yet another discussion about Jane's research.

Tony felt mellow, his defenses slipping lower. He didn't need to pretend tonight, or act to match the impression people had of him. He was among friends, with the man he felt keenly about, and every time Bruce would brush his fingers against Tony's or lean closer, Tony felt a giddy sensation in his gut, but it wasn't bad or distracting.

"We should have done something like this earlier," Bruce decided when they were contemplating a second round of dessert and Tony had just opened another bottle of wine.

"It's not like we've ever had a double-date with anyone either," Jane pointed out. "But this went nicely. I mean, most people I might imagine going out with don't know anything about my work, have no interest in it, and introducing Thor... They just wouldn't get it."

Tony guessed Thor wasn't an easy pill to swallow, if you had to sit down with him for longer than two minutes. For one, the whole not-from-this-planet thing went a little over most people's heads, and then there was the whole Avengers gig, which gave them some sort of super-celebrity status. Thor had never been discrete with journalists and fans, enjoying the attention, giving the S.H.I.E.L.D. PR office plenty to work with.

"To well-suited company," Tony toasted, and the others joined him with laughter.

"And for much-deserved time off," Jane agreed. "You guys must love slow days."

"What are those?" Tony asked with a half-snort, swirling the wine in his glass. "I mean, when you don't have to debate casualty numbers, damage detail and the possible danger to your own person, I suppose I would choose this over that any day."

Thor nodded gravely. "Peace time is often hard on warriors, but they shall cherish the quiet once the peace ends."

"To peace," Jane toasted again, and the rest of them joined her. After she had sipped her drink, she glanced at Thor, and just like that they leaned close to each other and kissed. Sure, that had happened a lot during the evening, but far less than you could assume from a couple on a date.

Tony spied Bruce smiling softly, averting his eyes half-way into the kiss that was fairly innocent on all levels, and after a moment the scientist's eyes met Tony's. "What are you thinking?" Bruce asked quietly.

"That I might like some of that," Tony confessed.

Instead of rejection or a quick look away, Bruce set down his glass and stared at it for a moment – then turned around, towards Tony, and settled a hand on the side of his throat, thumb sweeping along his chin. And just like that he leaned in, and Tony truly hadn't expected that. Jane and Thor broke apart just as Bruce's lips reached their destination, and for the next thirty seconds Tony didn't give a fuck about who else was in the room, or what they were doing.

When they drew apart, Thor was grinning and Jane had leaned against his side, one strong arm around her body. She looked like she had just watched two cute otters kiss.

"More dessert?" Bruce offered.

"Sure," she smiled.

Tony got up to get them some of the assorted pastries and other delicacies from the fridge. As he glanced back towards the table, he saw Bruce had leaned in, talking to the others, but every now and then his eyes would move over to Tony, and if he hadn't already said those words, Tony would have known how he felt from that single expression on his face.

* * *

They returned to the Mansion late that night. In the living room, the TV was on but no one was there.

"How are our guests doing?" Tony asked as they stepped in and took off their coats.

_"Dr. Selvig has already turned in, sir,"_ the AI replied.

"And where's Darcy Lewis?" he went on.

There was no immediate reply, and that had Tony giving the other three a quick, slightly worried look. Jane opened her mouth, but didn't get a word out before J.A.R.V.I.S. went on:

_"Ms. Lewis is in the war room with the other Avengers."_

"Why?" Tony asked, frowning. "Wait, don't answer: we'll go and find out for ourselves."

It had been a fabulous night, and Tony was convinced he and Bruce were going to continue on the same note in their own room, later. There was no way anyone could ruin their good mood at this point.

_to be continued…_


	24. Chapter 23: Meet Miss Lewis

**Chapter 23: Meet Miss Lewis**

* * *

Darcy couldn't believe she had just been dumped at the Avengers Mansion to spend the evening while Jane and Thor went off with Tony Stark and Bruce Banner. Not that she had exactly planned on interfering with their date night, since she didn't have a date of her own to bring along, but…

Well, things could have been worse. She was, after all, in the Avengers Mansion – where there were supposedly three more Avengers lurking about. The evening may yet become worthwhile.

After freshening up in her room, Darcy descended back to the main floor, walking hallways and peeking into rooms. She systematically went over the place until she heard voices from the kitchen.

"It's not weird," a soft female voice was saying – Natasha.

"You're not becoming a believer, are you?" a man asked – Clint, the archer, Darcy recalled from a very brief introduction Thor had provided during their tour. "You're smart. You know how it might play out."

"Maybe it won't," a third voice argued.

"Come on, Cap. You know better than that, too. Just because they've had a good, solid roll and just one argument doesn't make it a done deal. It's Stark, after all, and –"

"Hello, Ms. Lewis," Steve Rogers cut Clint off as Darcy peeked in from the doorway, immediately caught. "How are you settling in?" the blond went on.

"Just fine. Call me Darcy," she added and stepped in. It was clear they had been talking about Tony and Bruce, and it sounded like things weren't as perfect as they seemed. "So," she ventured, taking a seat at the kitchen island with the others, "what's new in superhero gossip?"

Steve frowned, while Clint and Natasha feigned ignorance.

"Come on!" Darcy urged. "I'm in this with you guys. I'll tell you all the naughty stuff about Jane and Thor if you spill on your science duo."

"That's… not appropriate," Steve argued, looking so genuinely offended Darcy wondered if he was scandalized by a little dirty talk.

"You were hashing it out when I walked in," she pointed out.

"That's different," Clint argued.

"How's so?

"We're their team."

"I'm Jane's team," Darcy reminded them.

"Then you should have her back, and not… gossip," Steve noted.

"Like you're having Tony and Bruce's backs?" Darcy raised an eyebrow.

The Captain actually flushed a little and averted his eyes, body tense.

"What's the big dealio with the science dudes being together?" she pressed. "They looked happy."

"You haven't seen them argue," Clint replied. "One of them has an arsenal of weapons that could level a small country. The other one turns into a monster."

Darcy guessed their domestic spats were interesting, to say the least. "Okay, so it's bad when they fight. Do they do that a lot?"

"Just once," Natasha revealed, then fixed Darcy with a hard look. "Once was too much."

"But no cities were leveled and people didn't die, right? I'm pretty sure that would have been in the news," Darcy tentatively stayed on the subject.

"Not this time," was all the red-head said.

"So, basically you're all just waiting for the big disaster to strike?" Darcy pressed. Silence met her words, accompanied by hardened expressions. "And what if that never happens? What if they have it under control?"

"The Hulk's never 'under control'," Clint made air quotes. "Banner says as much, all the time. And everyone knows how Stark is."

"Yeah: a hero," Darcy grinned. "Are you sure you guys aren't just jealous of their smooching? Are any of you in a relationship?" Another set of hard looks was directed at her, and Darcy thought she was sensing a pattern. "Is there something to eat?" she changed tactics, and soon enough food was being brought out – that's probably why they had all been in the kitchen before Darcy interrupted them.

The four of them settled down in the living room in front of a huge TV screen – or rather, the three Avengers moved to the living room and Darcy followed them, making herself comfortable – and Clint flipped channels until they landed on some reasonably good game show. Steve was pretty good at some questions that revolved around the 30s and 40s, but it was painfully obvious he either had a huge hole in his general knowledge – or the rumors were actually true.

"So, Steve," Darcy ventured after a while, "is it true you're actually _the_ Captain America, from World War II?" The man looked exactly like the famed super-solider in the old pictures and news reels. There hadn't been all that much debate on the subject in the media, which was really weird and suspicious – and probably meant _someone_ was holding back information, somewhere.

"I'm not sure that's –" Steve started.

"I'll just ask Thor," Darcy cut him off. "He'll tell me. He tells me everything."

Steve frowned, then eventually shrugged. "Yeah. I'm the same guy."

"Huh," Darcy leaned back and studied him a bit more carefully. "You look… really good for your age."

Clint guffawed on the side. "He does, doesn't he?"

"I was in the ice for almost seventy years," Steve snapped; clearly this was a touchy subject.

"Wait, ice?" Darcy leaned forward again, sticking her spoon into the bowl of ice cream in her hands. "Did they, like, stash you in a freezer or something?"

"I fell into the ocean," Steve explained. "Then I woke up… here."

Darcy was pretty sure he meant the future, and obviously it was more complicated than that. Since the situation needed some lightening up, she thought it over some more. "I'm pretty sure no one can survive as an ice cube for seventy years. Are you a zombie? Like, you know, the living dead," she explained and made a fairly good zombie impression, in case there hadn't been zombie movies in Steve's time.

"I'm not a zombie," Steve balked at the idea.

"Are you sure?" Darcy pressed. "Do you ever have a weird craving to gnaw on human flesh, or eat brains? You don't need to feel ashamed."

Clint was hiding a smile and Natasha rolled her eyes, yet she looked sufficiently amused. Steve, on the other hand, looked like a lost puppy whom someone had kicked for good measure – and rather annoyed, too. It was an amazing mix of two opposite emotions. "I'm sure," he replied shortly.

"I would still keep an eye on this one," Darcy stage whispered at Clint and Natasha, pointing a thumb at Steve.

"Can we talk about something else?" Steve begged, exasperated.

"Sure," Darcy said brightly, taking another big spoonful of ice cream – honestly, the most amazing ice cream of her life, and there was a whole freezer of it! – and looked around the room. "What's the Hulk like?" After all, she hadn't met the green Avenger yet.

"He likes to smash things," Clint answered.

"Tear people apart, limb from limb," Natasha added. "I'm pretty sure he could kill someone by sitting on them."

"You're no fun," Darcy told them. "I should ask Tony; I'm sure he likes the big guy."

"Oh, for sure," Clint snorted. "He's versatile with his affections, I've heard." He gave Natasha a meaningful look.

"Spill!" Darcy encouraged, feeling like she had just hit a jackpot.

"What do you mean?" Steve leaned forward.

"You know what he means," Natasha gave Steve a look, but as the blond still seemed confused, she tilted her head. "I told you about the kissing, right?"

"Tony and the Hulk?" Steve's frown deepened.

"That must be quite a sight," Darcy decided, trying to envision it and failing. "How does it work, anyway? I mean, the Hulk's big, right?" She had only seen the green monster on TV, but he had looked big.

"Stark's creative," Clint snorted.

"I'm pretty sure you didn't tell me about that. When did it happen?" Steve pressed.

"When they blew up the lab," Natasha explained. "I talked to Stark about it, it's not…"

"He knows he's playing with fire, right?" Steve mused, looking thoughtful.

"If he does, he won't admit it to anyone else," Natasha shrugged.

"I've been wondering, can it be considered cheating?" Clint mused, opening another beer for himself and leaning back on the couch. "I mean, they're the same guy, sort of, but they act like they aren't. They don't like each other."

"At least they both like Tony," Darcy offered.

"The last thing we need is Bruce and the Hulk fighting over Tony," Steve mused unhappily. "The Hulk is unpredictable as it is." His eyes snapped towards Darcy, as if she wasn't supposed to hear that. "The Hulk is very easily distracted, and doesn't really…"

"Control his impulses well," Natasha finished tactically.

"We don't know whether to treat him like a kid or an animal most days," Clint summarized, "but one thing's for sure: you can't put a leash on him, and if you put him in the corner for almost killing one of us when he gets annoyed about something random, he'll smash the corner."

"Has he tried to kill you often?" Darcy asked.

"Most of us at least once," Clint shrugged and took a sip of his beer. "He went after Natasha before our first big battle together. Butted heads with Thor, too. I don't think anyone dares to guess how that would have ended if allowed to go on."

Knowing that Thor more than packed a punch, that was saying a lot. "But if he and Tony get along really well now, surely that makes things easier?" Darcy mused.

Clint snapped his fingers and pointed his finger at her as if Darcy had just said the right thing. "Before the whole dating thing? The Hulk smashed Tony's chest in. Literally. He almost died. So, that's officially the weirdest get-together story I've ever heard, and it's a real one, too."

Darcy gawked at him. "Seriously?"

"Yeah," the archer nodded. "We were all there. Tony had just broken up with Pepper – you know Pepper Potts, right? – and he decided to piss off the big guy. Didn't end so well for him. Or, you know, I don't know how they got from that to this, but it seems to be working for them, strangely enough."

It sounded like straight out of a movie or something, and Darcy wished she could actually see it for herself. Then she realized maybe she could: "Is there footage of that?"

Three pairs of eyes blinked at her.

"Yes, I think so," Steve replied hesitantly.

"We need to watch it," Darcy decided and got up from the couch, looking for a computer. "Do you have a computer room or something?" Then she remembered the 'war room', which Thor had mentioned, and took off towards it. Diligently, the Avengers followed her inside, but Steve still looked hesitant.

"I'm not sure we should do this."

"Don't sweat it, zombie-dude," Darcy teased. "Consider it an educational film. 'Don't Harass the Hulk'."

"J.A.R.V.I.S.," Clint called out to the room, "do we have video from… you know, the incident?"

_"Would you like to review it, Agent Barton?"_ the electronic, although very human, voice asked.

"Guess so," Clint shrugged and raised the beer bottle to his lips.

A large screen on one wall lit up and showed some kind of training area. All six Avengers were there, in full costume. _"Stark, Banner, you're up,"_ Steve commanded.

Darcy raised her eyebrows as Bruce began to strip a moment later – and then it looked like he was growing like a green balloon filled with air, only it was muscle and raw power as he turned into the Hulk. Beside him, Iron Man rose into the air and they started an awkward dance of repulsor blasts and swings, the Hulk looking like a child trying to catch a fly.

A deadly child, because a few minutes later the Hulk caught Iron Man, enduring more shots – then slammed the metal-covered body into the floor, hard, and hauled his hands up to bring them down. Darcy grimaced and the image froze before the screen went blank.

She could admit it was hard to see how someone could build a relationship from that.

Looking at her companions, it seemed she wasn't the only one feeling squeamish, so she looked for a keyboard or something. "I need adorable animal babies stumbling around after this – or LOLcats."

"What is LOLcats?" Steve asked, blinking.

"Oh, you're in for a ride," Darcy grinned. "J.A.R.V.I.S., be a darling and educate Captain America."

And that was how they ended up looking at cute cats with often funny and, at times weird captions. And continued on to _America's Funniest Home Videos_ – during which they got rickrolled, and Darcy proceeded to bribe J.A.R.V.I.S. into giving the original creator of that bait-and-switch the worst virtual STD of their life. It was clear the AI disliked the Rick Astley song, but was still hesitant to actually go and follow Darcy's plea for revenge.

In the meanwhile, Steve kept looking at the music video and seemed to be enjoying it, so Darcy let it play while she kept negotiating with J.A.R.V.I.S. about the computer bug.

That was when the two couples returned from their date, walking into the war room with varying degrees of dread on their faces. Tony took one glance towards the screen where Steve was watching another YouTube video, and J.A.R.V.I.S. promptly cut off his latest refusal at creating a horrible virus to deliver to all those Darcy disliked.

"Hi!" Darcy whirled around with a bright grin on her face. "How was date night?"

"Fine," Jane replied. "What's going on here?"

"We're educating the resident zombie," Darcy pointed a thumb towards Steve. The blond scowled at her.

"Should we ask?" Bruce murmured.

"Sometimes I find it wiser not to," Thor replied.

"Now that you're here," Darcy plunged on, moving away from the screens and towards the new arrivals, "I want to see something."

"What?" Tony asked, eyes already narrowing.

"A Hulk kiss."

Bruce froze, which was kind of odd, considering it was just a request for a kiss.

"Why?" Tony asked, tone sharp.

"Because you guys had a nice night and he didn't get to be there," Darcy pointed out.

"That's not how it works," Bruce cut in before Tony could form a reply. "It's not like that."

"I heard it's exactly like that," Darcy grinned. "Come on, the big guy deserves a little love, right?"

Tony's eyes moved to the side, away from her, and Darcy followed his gaze, landing on Natasha. The red-head's expression was unforthcoming. Tony didn't look happy, either. "From whom did Ms. Lewis hear that?" Tony finally asked.

"Me," Clint raised his hand. "But I heard it from Natasha."

"It doesn't matter who told whom," Darcy insisted. "The important part –"

"Okay, stop," Bruce snapped, much harder than what Darcy had heard from him before, and which commanded the attention of the entire room at once. "The other guy's not coming out to play – not for kisses nor for your entertainment," he added, casting a look at Darcy. He looked at Tony next, eyes softening a fraction, but there was still a guarded look on his face. "I've had enough for one night. I'm going to bed." It wasn't a question, but rather a statement. An angry statement, too.

"I'll be right there," Tony replied, softer, and watched Bruce leave the room.

"No kisses, then?" Darcy observed.

Tony turned his gaze on her and, okay, that was intimidating on a whole new level. "No," was all he said before glaring towards his three teammates. "Have a nice night, did we? Rehashing my relationship with Bruce much?"

"We didn't –" Steve started.

"J.A.R.V.I.S.," Tony called out, arms crossing over his chest. "Did the occupants of the mansion talk about me and Dr. Banner in our absence?"

_"Extensively, sir,"_ the AI replied promptly.

"We didn't talk just about _you_," Clint defended them, because clearly this was becoming an argument of some kind.

Tony simply huffed and turned to leave. "Whatever. Good night." He didn't slam the door as he went, but he might as well have.

"Okay," Darcy said cautiously after a while. "That didn't go well at all."

"Bruce Banner is quite… conflicted when it comes to the beast inside him," Thor observed.

"Maybe if he got a little less conflicted, he might get to enjoy life once in a while," Darcy mused.

Thor gave her a soft, indulgent smile, and the room fell into an uneasy silence until everyone decided, almost in unison, that it was time to go to bed.

* * *

Tony finished washing up and the bathroom lights dimmed and went dark as he stepped into the bedroom. Bruce was already in bed, back turned towards him, and Tony sighed. He had hoped the evening would end on a better, brighter, sexier note, but he knew that the chances for that happening had been lost.

It wasn't as if he regretted the moment of intimate closeness between himself and the Hulk. Far from it. However, talking about it in front of Bruce seemed a bit insensitive, especially when the issue wasn't yet completely resolved between the two of them. Sure, they had arrived at a relatively pleasant middle ground, but Tony wasn't stupid or naïve enough to think that just because Bruce didn't bring it up, it didn't bother him.

He slid into bed, beneath the sheets, and was fairly certain the other man was still awake, because his breaths sounded uneven and strained. "Do you want to talk about it?" Tony asked, voice low.

"Why I didn't want to let the other guy out tonight?" Bruce said back.

"No," Tony replied and reached out to slide his fingers along Bruce's shoulder, lightly. It felt better to talk about this when he could touch the other man – tell himself that Bruce wasn't going anywhere.

"Then what?" Bruce turned around jerkily, almost angrily, but Tony had seen him angry and this wasn't it.

"Does it bother you that it happened?" Tony ventured to explain. "I know we talked about it before, but…"

"Just, stop," Bruce begged, and raised one hand between them, settling his fingers on Tony's lips. "I've resigned myself to the fact that I can't stop it from happening. Obviously, I'm not in control of things when the other guy's around. Also," he added, when Tony opened his lips to say something, "you are you, and if you want it to happen, whether or not it's a good idea, you'll do it. There are things you can't fight, and while I've tilted at windmills for much of my life… I'll be smart about this one. I won't fight it; I'll just let it happen."

Tony tugged Bruce's hand off his face. "That makes me sound like a horrible person." It really did.

"It's not like that," Bruce reassured him, the tension slowly leaving his face. "I'm not there, Tony. I'm not part of that experience. Much as you tell me about it, describe it – show me, on video – it's not the same. But I understand you're trying to create a rapport between you and the other guy, because when I'm not there, he is, and I should… let it happen. Doesn't mean I have to like it, because I've told you a hundred times that it won't end well."

"And I'm telling you, again, that it just might," Tony said earnestly, and shifted forward to lay a soft kiss on Bruce's lips.

"Just don't be sad if it doesn't end the way you planned," Bruce told him, and then moved his arms around Tony's body to pull him into another kiss, encouraging him afterward to settle down and sleep.

As Tony lay still, safe and secure in the other man's hold, he wondered if he would have chosen to have the Hulk in his life should that have been an option. As it was, there was not one without the other, and he would take the rage monster with Bruce any day, without question. That was all he needed to know about it, really – all that anyone needed to know about it.

_to be continued…_

* * *

**Author's note:** In case anyone was wondering (although you shouldn't be, if you've read the previous parts of the series), the Hulk-smashing-Tony incident was featured in "_Smashed Heart_".

And no, Captain America isn't officially a zombie. Although maybe someone should check, just in case.


End file.
